"Oh, Molly, Molly," he said, smiling, "there are more important things than what a few people are likely to think or say. The girl made a fool of herself, and the man weakened and nearly went to pieces. He's found himself again; he's disposed to help her find herself. It was only one of those messes that the papers report every day. Few get out of such pickles, but I believe these two are going to.... And somehow, do you know--from something Sprowl said to-night, I don't believe that she went the entire limit--took the last ditch." Molly reddened: "Why?" "Because, although they do it in popular fiction, men like Sprowl never really boast of their successes. His sort keep silent--when there's anything to conceal." "Did he boast?" "He did. I was sure he was lying, and I--" he shrugged. "Told him so?" "Well, something of that sort." "I believe he was lying, too.... It was just like that romantic little fool to run off to Reno after nothing worse than the imprudence of infatuation. I've known her a long while, Rix. She's too shallow for real passion, too selfish to indulge it anyway. His name and fortune did the business for her--little idiot. Really she annoys me." Quarren smiled: "Her late husband seems to like her. Fools feminine have made many a man happy. You'll be nice to her I'm sure." "Of course.... Everybody will on Mrs. Sprowl's account." Quarren laughed again, then: "Meanwhile this Ledwith business has prevented my talking to Strelsa over the telephone," he said. "Oh, Rix! You _said_ you were going to surprise her in the morning!" "But I want to see her, Molly. I don't want to wait----" "It's after ten and Strelsa has probably retired. She's a perfect farmer, I tell you--yawns horribly every evening at nine. Why, I can't keep her awake long enough to play a hand at Chinese Khan! Be reasonable, Rix. You had planned to surprise her in the morning.... And--I'm lonely without Jim.... Besides, if you are clever enough to burst upon Strelsa's view in the morning when the day is young and all before her, and when she's looking her very best, nobody can tell what might happen.... And I'll whisper in your ear that the child has really missed you.... But don't be in a hurry with her, will you, Rix?" "No," he said absently. Molly picked up her knitting. "If Chester Ledwith doesn't return by twelve I'm going to have the house locked," she said, stifling a yawn. At twelve o'clock the house was accordingly locked for the night. "It's enough to compromise her," said Molly, crossly. "What a pair of fools they are." CHAPTER XVII Strelsa, a pink apron pinned about her, a trowel in her gloved hand, stood superintending the transplanting of some purple asters which not very difficult exploit was being attempted by a local yokel acting as her "hired man." The garden, a big one with a wall fronting the road, ran back all the way to the terrace in the rear of the house beyond which stretched the western veranda.