The sun was going down quietly, without pomp and glory, only slipping out of sight and drawing with it all the light and color in the world. They passed houses, they passed other cars, and it seemed to him that he and this girl passed through the everyday life about them like ghosts, set apart from their fellows, under a chill shadow. “Jimmy!” she said, abruptly. “How can you be so horrid! Why don’t you _talk_? Why can’t you be like—like a real cousin?” “Perhaps I haven’t had enough practice,” Ross replied. She did not like this. “All right, then! _Don’t_ help me! Just go away and leave me to suffer all alone!” she cried. “You’re a heartless—beast! Go away!” “Just as you please,” said Ross. “Can you drive the car?” She began to cry, but he paid no attention to this. “Jimmy,” she resumed, at last, “my Gayle’s coming tonight.” “Your Gayle?” he repeated “What’s that?” “He’s the man I love,” she said, simply. And she was honest now, wholly in earnest; the childish artfulness had gone, and she spoke quietly. “He’s coming tonight,” she went on. “And if anything—goes wrong, he’ll go away, and never come back. And something’s very likely to go wrong, Jimmy.” “You’ll have to remember that I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Ross. She did not resent his blunt manner now. “In the house where we’re going,” she explained, “there’s some one Gayle must not see—no matter what happens. I’ll talk to—this person first; I’ll try to persuade him. But if I can’t—That’s what I want you to do for me. I want you to be sure to see that—this person doesn’t leave that house tonight.” “And how am I to do that?” She was silent for a moment. “I don’t care,” she said then. “It doesn’t matter how it’s done.” “It does matter—to me.” “Listen to me!” she said, with a sort of sternness. “This man—in the cottage—he’s blackmailing me. Because of something I did—something I’m sorry for—terribly, terribly sorry—” “What will he take to keep quiet?” “Nothing. All he wants is to hurt and ruin me.” “That’s not blackmail,” said Ross. “If he can’t be bribed—” “Oh, what does it matter what you call it? He’s coming tonight, to tell—this thing—and Gayle will go away!” “Look here!” said Ross. “Let him tell. If this Gayle of yours cares for you, he’ll stand by you. If he doesn’t, you’re well rid of him. No; just wait a minute! Don’t you see? You can’t lie to a man you’re—fond of. You—” “I’m not going to lie. I’ll just say nothing. The thing is over, Jimmy; over and done with. Mustn’t I even have a chance? Jimmy, I’m young! I’m sorry—God knows I’m sorry for what I did—but it’s done. Nothing can undo it. Won’t you—_won’t_ you let me have just a chance?” “But look here! Even if the man didn’t come tonight, he’d come some other time. You don’t expect me to—” He stopped short, appalled by the words he had not spoken. He looked at her, and in the gathering dusk he saw upon her white face that terrible, still look again. “No!” he cried.