"I'm all right now."
"Not yet, Bill."
But Bill was able to take Gregg's hand from the door; and Gregg was unable to oppose him too violently for Marjorie returned to the living room.
"Billy!" she cried, looking about confusedly.
He opened the door and stepped to her, and Gregg gazed into the street and prayed for the ambulance. No moving car was in sight either way on the street, but he stood with his back to the lighted room where Billy now had Marjorie in his arms, kissing her and reassuring her.
When Gregg heard some one else come, he turned about and saw Mrs. Russell, and he stepped quickly into the living room. Evidently she had been bathing her eyes and otherwise composing herself and now had appeared to try to play the part before Marjorie Hale which Gregg had assigned to her. Why hadn't she stayed in her room? Gregg agonized when he saw her. Yet she appeared decent enough as she came forward calmly; too decent. That was the trouble. She made no move of her own to go to Marjorie but Marjorie, desperately needing another woman just then, started to go to her; and Gregg, realizing it, jerked forward. Probably—as he afterwards thought—he would have had to do something but he would not have done what Billy did. For Bill reached forward as though catching Marjorie back from the furnace of hell itself. "Don't touch her!" he blurted.
"What?" Marjorie cried, more frightened. "Why? What's she done?" Marjorie stared from Billy to Sybil Russell and back to Billy again. He then could give no explanation and it was just as well that he tried none, if it were any better for Marjorie to re-
