Friends help friends when they are in
trouble."
The professor rumpled his hair The pinwheel in his brain was slowing
down. Already the marvelous something which accepts and adjusts the
unexpected was hard at work restoring order. Mary was not dead. He
had to reckon with Mary. Very well, let Mary look to her-self. Let
her beware how she harassed a desperate man! Let her--but he was not
pushed to extremes yet.
"I thought," he said slowly, "that we had tacitly agreed not to
reopen this subject."
Desire looked surprised.
"And I still think that it would be better, much better to ignore it
altogether."
"Oh, but it wouldn't," said Desire. "See how dreadfully dumpy you
have been since Friday."
"I have not been dumpy. But supposing I have, there may be other
reasons. What if I can honorably assure you that I have not been
thinking of the past at all?"
"Then I should want to know what you have been thinking of."
"But supposing I were to go further and say that my thoughts are my
own property?"
"That would be horridly rude, don't you think? And you are not at
all a rude person. If you'll risk it, I will."
Her smile was insufferably secure.
"You are willing to risk a great deal," snapped Spence. "But if it's
truth you want--"
He almost confessed then. The temptation to slay Mary with a few
well chosen words almost overpowered him. But he looked at the
expectant face beside him and faltered. Mary would not die alone.
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