"That's all here. I'll show you the rest at the lake," she answered, suddenly gathering her blouse and undergarment from the chair and stooping for her shoes. She abstracted a skirt from the closet and disappeared into the bathroom.
He stood beside her bed with no inkling of the range of the marvelous dream which she had built up every night when she had lain here; he imagined her to have been filled with desire of the basest sort. He reminded himself, "She was in that murder with Ketlar. At any rate, she knows he killed his wife and she's working to save him in order to have him for herself."
At sounds from the street, he stepped to the window and witnessed the arrival of a patrol car which halted and backed before the building; and he was watching the men who came from the car, when the girl emerged from the bathroom and stood beside him.
"You're taking Ket away?" she asked, as she saw the dark, barred bulk of the car.
"Not yet, I think."
"Don't—yet!" she pleaded, seizing his sleeve.
He wanted to shake off her grasp and, oppositely, he wanted to continue to feel the appeal of her pull at his wrist.
She was dressed in her blouse and skirt and with the silk stockings and the small shoes upon her slender feet, which he had seen bare and white. She had applied color to her lips and a little to her cheeks. Not much, but she no longer was pale.
"Make them wait," she begged, "anyway until you come back with me."
Releasing him, she stepped to the closet and reached up for her hat and, as had Ket, Calvin saw the lovely line of her figure with her slender arms raised; and, very much as had Ket, Calvin drew in a deep breath.
