"Heaven help us if we are," said Dick. He looked at Slicker. "Who gave you leave to take Kant and Hegel and some other books out of my room?" he asked.
Slicker went scarlet. Several conditions in Grey Wolf had upset him lately; and he was seeking explanation for them, and, incidentally, for his own existence and that of everyone else.
"I found them," he muttered.
"I have just said so." Dick's smile was malicious. "Well, you've found your punishment pretty quick, too."
"But can't you do something with Hotchkiss?" said Bond. "I'm afraid he gives that poor little woman a bad time."
"Not unless she complains—or Leigh. Speak to Leigh. He's Hotchkiss' boss."
Dick yawned, and retired from the following discussion, lying back in his chair with his half-shut eyes on Slicker. And presently the boy rose, with a swing of defiance; walked down to the gate, and turned along the road.
Dick was half-smiling, for he understood the reason for this explosion so clearly. In these weeks Slicker had been watching the breaking-up of a home across the Lake. Where he could he battled for Jennifer against Ducane's growing drunkenness and demands; where he could not he went away, and, quite naturally, cursed the universe. Dick saw no reason to curse the universe. He had become to Jennifer that always-kindly, always-tactful friend whose vigorous interest and vitality cheered and strengthened her as nothing else could do. And she had become to him much more than he yet allowed himself to believe, although his nature was daily warning him. Jennifer, brave-eyed and unshaken in her wifehood, meant more to him than any woman had meant before, even as Tempest meant more than any other man had meant.
But he knew that he would probably let Tempest go to ruin without a finger lifted to save him, and he forsaw that he would more than probably pluck Jennifer out of her blind innocence into a knowledge which could not fail to hurt her. The man who desired a thing and yet dared not take it aroused Dick's amused contempt and curiosity
