It was not Scattergood's custom to publish his emotions; nevertheless he was worried. He appreciated the state of mind which had brought Sarah to Coldriver--the spirit of restless, resentful youth, demanding the world for its plaything. He knew Sarah's high temper, her eagerness for adventure.... He knew that thousands of girls before her had been fascinated by well-told tales of the life to be lived out in the world of cities, of wealth, of artificial gayeties ... the lure of travel, of excitement.... And Scattergood did not covet the duty of carrying a woeful story to old Nahum Pound, the gentle schoolmaster. His uneasiness was not decreased by a bit of unpremeditated eavesdropping that fell in his way the next evening.... Farley Curtis was talking, Sarah Pound was listening--eagerly. "You can't understand what living is," the man was saying, "How could you? You haven't lived. Here in this backwater you will never live.... You move around in a fog of monotony. Every day the same. But out there.... Everything! Everything you want and can imagine is there for the taking. A beautiful woman can take what she wants--that's what it's all for--for her to help herself to. Life and excitement and pleasure--and love ... they are all out there waiting." Sarah sighed. "Did you ever try to imagine Paris, London, Madrid, Rome?" he went on. "You can't do it.... But you can see them. I--I would take you if you would let me ... if things fall out right. I'm poor ...but with this Beatty money I could take you anywhere. It would give us everything we want.... Half of that money belongs to me rightfully, doesn't it?" "I suppose so." "But I may not get it." She was silent. "There is a paper," he said, "and that paper may stand between you and me--and Paris and Rome and the world...." He paused, and then said, carelessly: "Won't you go with me, Sarah--away from this? Won't you let me take you, to love and to make happy?" Presently she spoke, so low her voice was scarcely audible to Scattergood. "I don't know.... I don't know," she said. Scattergood had heard enough. He stole away silently. The time had come to act, if he were going to act ... if no woeful story were to be carried to old Nahum Pound concerning his daughter. He might even be too late.... The lure of great cities and foreign shores might have done its work, and Farley Curtis's eloquence have served its purpose.