"I want to tell you something." She faced him bravely, though he refused
the challenge of her tormented eyes. "I ... I have no husband."

He bowed gravely.

"You're so good to me--" she faltered.

"O--nothing! Let's not talk about that now."

"I must talk--you must let me. You're so kind, I've got to tell you.
Won't you listen?"

He had crossed to a window, where he stood staring out. "I'd rather
not," he said softly, "but if you prefer--"

"I do prefer," said the voice behind him. "I--I'm Mary Ladislas."

"Yes," said Whitaker.

"I ... I ran away from home last week--five days ago--to get married to
our chauffeur, Charles Morton...."

She stammered.

"Please don't go on, if it hurts," he begged without looking round.

"I've got to--I've got to get it over with.... We were at Southampton,
at my father's summer home--I mean, that's where I ran away from.
He--Charley--drove me over to Greenport and I took the ferry there and
came here to wait for him. He went back to New York in the car,
promising to join me here as soon as possible...."

"And he didn't come," Whitaker wound up for her, when she faltered.

"No."

"And you wrote and telegraphed, and he didn't answer."

"Yes--"

"How much money of yours did he take with him?" Whitaker pursued.

There was a brief pause of astonishment. "What do you know about that?"
she demanded.

"I know a good deal about that type of man," he said grimly.

"I didn't have any money to speak of, but I had some jewellery--my
mother's--and he was to take that and pawn it for money to get married
with."

"I see."

To his infinite relief the waiter interrupted them. The girl in her turn
went to one of the windows, standing with her back to the room, while
Whitaker admitted the man with his tray. When they were alone once more,
he fixed the place and drew a chair for her.

"Everything's ready," he said--and had the sense not to try to make his
tone too cheerful.

"I hadn't finished what I wanted to tell you," said the girl, coming
back to him.

"Will you do me the favour to wait," he pleaded. "I think things will
seem--well, otherwise--when you've had some food."

"But I--"

"Oh, please!" he begged with his odd, twisted smile.

She submitted, head drooping and eyes downcast. He returned to his
window, rather wishing that he had thought to order for himself as well
as for the girl; for it was suddenly borne strongly in upon him that he
himself had had little