"Do you know," Miss Palmer now said, "you have impressed me wonderfully." "I didn't, I'm sure; but you are complimentary." He was now a mite more cheerful. "In what way, I beg, have I impressed you? In that I can sell books?" "I don't mean that, and you know I do not," she pouted. "And you can be so innocent, when you want to be. Oh, you are artful. But I mean, if I must say it and then explain why, there is something about you that is unusual. You are in disguise, going through the country studying people, yes, people and what they are, have been and are likely to be." She was thoughtful now, as she sat in serious mood for some time. Presently, she said: "I've been reading that book, and, of course, I understand you better. Is all that you say in it true?" She was serious now, and anxious too. She waited eagerly for him to speak. He laughed. Then he said nothing in the affirmative, but indulged in words concerning other topics. "You are more than a book agent. You have, at least, been a man of means. Really, I would be pleased to know from your own lips," she now sighed. "I wish we could talk of something else, that would be more interesting. Cannot you suggest something?" he turned to her now appealingly. "I cannot. Yourself is the most interesting thing I care to talk about. I have been thinking of the terrible secret you disclose in the book. Won't you please tell me if it is all true?" "I suppose if _the_ book is published as a true story, then it must be so," he said evasively. "And she was a weak woman. No strength and conviction; nothing to protect a home. You and she will not remain as you are, will you?" Silence. "There is nothing the matter with you--and her. I sympathize with _this fellow_." Miss Palmer was more serious now. "Because, apparently, he wanted, tried to do the right thing, and was not allowed.... I know somebody else that wished to do likewise, and was not allowed.... Life is a strange thing, isn't it?" "Indeed so," he agreed. "And on this pilgrimage you study the lives of others, many others, and it reveals so much to you that would, could not be possible, otherwise?" He agreed with her again. "And on this pilgrimage you have met _women_, and you have studied them and their way of seeing things?" "Possibly. They are all in the same category." "Yes; but somebody said: 'I bet that fellow has _so_ many girls!' I didn't agree with them. I don't think you have any; you are too preoccupied to give them serious thought. Perhaps that is why the girl allowed herself to be taken away...." He now looked at her. His lips, for one moment, had started to speak, and then he seemed to think better of it, and said nothing.