Teddy replied that he had, ordering six, with a dozen of her doughnuts. Her manner was so affable that he failed to notice her piercing eyes fixed upon him, nor did he realize how much a young man’s aspect can betray after twenty-four hours without water to wash in, as well as without hairbrush or razor. He thought of himself as presenting the same neat appearance as on the previous evening; but the woman saw him otherwise. "I wonder if I could have a glass of water?" he asked, his throat almost too parched to let the words come out. "But sairtainly." She turned to the child, whispering in a foreign language, but using more words than the command to fetch a glass of water would require. When the child came back, Teddy swallowed the water in one long gulp. The woman asked him if he would like another glass, to which he replied that he would. More instructions followed, and while the woman tied up the sandwiches the little girl came back with the second glass. This Teddy drank more slowly, not noticing as he did so that the little girl slipped away. Nor did he notice as he left the shop and turned westward into the gloaming, that the child was returning from what seemed like a hasty visit to a neighbor’s house across the street. Still less did he perceive, when the comforting loneliness of the marshes began once more to close round him, that a big, husky figure was stalking him. It had come out of one of the tenements over the way from the pastry shop, apparently at a summons from the wispy little girl. Like the men whom Jennie had seen eying the house in the afternoon, he suggested the guardianship of law, even though he was, so to speak, in undress uniform. His duties for the day being over, he had plainly been taking his ease in slippers, trousers, and shirt. Even now he was bareheaded, pulling on his tunic as he went along. He didn’t go very far, only to a point at which he could see the boy in front of him turn into the unused path that led to the old shack. Whereupon he nodded to himself and turned back to his evening meal. CHAPTER XIX Jennie’s chief hesitation was as to cashing the checks, not because the teller at the Pemberton National Bank didn’t know her, but because he did. To present a demand for money made out to Jane Scarborough Follett, and signed, "R. B. Collingham, Jr.," was embarrassing. But she had grown since the previous afternoon, and embarrassment sat on her more lightly. Like Teddy marooned on the marshes, she seemed to have moved on, leaving her old self behind. Now she had things to do rather than things to think about. One fact was a relief to her; she was no longer under the necessity of betraying Bob.