"I don't say that, Dexter. I'm only wondering--. Supposing we'd given the money to Jim instead? Lita could have done her house over ... or built a bungalow in Florida ... or bought jewels with it... She's so easily amused." "Easily amused!" He broke into a hard laugh. "Why, that amount of money wouldn't amuse her for a week!" His face took on a look of grim introspection. "She wants the universe--or her idea of it. A woman with an offer from Klawhammer dangling in front of her! Mrs. Landish told me the figure--those people could buy us all out and not know it." Pauline's heart sank. Apparently he knew things about Lita of which she was still ignorant. "I hadn't heard the offer had actually been made. But if it has, and she wants to accept, how can we stop her?" Manford had thrown himself down into his armchair. He got up again, relit his cigar, and walked across the room and back before answering. "I don't know that we can. And I don't know how we can. But I want to try... I want _time_ to try... Don't you see, Pauline? The child--we mustn't be hard on her. Her beginnings were damnable... Perhaps you know--yes? That cursèd Mahatma place?" Pauline winced, and looked away from him. He had seen the photograph, then! And heaven knows what more he had discovered in the course of his investigations for the Lindons... A sudden light glared out at her. It was for Jim's sake and Lita's that he had dropped the case--sacrificed his convictions, his sense of the duty of exposing a social evil! She faltered: "I do know ... a little..." "Well, a little's enough. Swine--! And that's the rotten atmosphere she was brought up in. But she's not bad, Pauline ... there's something still to be done with her ... give me time ... time..." He stopped abruptly, as if the "me" had slipped out by mistake. "We must all stand shoulder to shoulder to put up this fight for her," he corrected himself with a touch of forensic emphasis. "Of course, dear, of course," Pauline murmured. "When we get her to ourselves at Cedarledge, you and Nona and I... It's just as well Jim's going off, by the way. He's got her nerves on edge; Jim's a trifle dense at times, you know... And, above all, this whole business, Klawhammer and all, must be kept from him. We'll all hold our tongues till the thing blows over, eh?" "Of course," she again assented. "But supposing Lita asks to speak to me?" "Well, let her speak--listen to what she has to say..." He stopped, and then added, in a rough unsteady voice: "Only don't be hard on her. You won't, will you? No matter what rot she talks. The child's never had half a chance." "How could you think I should, Dexter?"