"So she did. Horribly."
"That's nothing. A put-up job. You're too easy. Then after you brought her here there was that charivari."
"Yes. Then Chard and the minister came."
"You didn't mind them, surely?"
"No, but I did mind Ramsey. I don't mean that I was afraid of him, but—well, I was tired, and couldn't think for the heat, and there was the kid. And everyone saying, I should make it right."
"Did Ramsey say I even hinted such a thing?"
"No, but—"
"Oh, he said Gay did, eh?"
"He said she hoped I'd do the right thing."
"Meaning she hoped you'd put your head in a noose. Why didn't you come to see us and find out what we thought for yourself?"
"I was going to. I started out but—"
"Well?"
"Oh, Lord, I don't want to talk about it."
"Why didn't you come, Vale?"
"I met your daughter on the road. She was driving—and she—"
"Didn't speak?"
"No. Turned her head away. So I came home."
"Oh, you young fool! What if the girl didn't speak? She was upset. She told me about it. After she had driven down the road a bit she made the man turn back. She thought she would overtake you, but you had disappeared. And, after all, man, what if she didn't speak? You would scarcely expect her to—after what happened. But I am different. Why in God's name didn't you come to me?"
Derek shook himself impatiently. "I don't know," he said. Then he looked into Mr. Jerrold's face pleadingly. "Don't talk about it any more. I'm stupid as an owl to-
