garden," he was daring--his sparkling eyes
tried to hold hers and failed.

She was looking straight beyond him to where Randy stood, by a window,
tall and thin with his Indian profile, and his high-held head.

"We are going to have watermelons in a minute," was her romantic response
to Dalton's fire. "You'd better stay and eat some."

"I don't want to eat. And if you aren't afraid you'll come."

Calvin and Mandy and their son, John, with Flippins' Daisy, had assembled
the watermelons on a long table out-of-doors. Above the table on the
branch of a tree was hung an old ship's lantern brought by Admiral
Meredith to his friend, the Judge. It gave a faint but steady light, and
showed the pink and green and white of the fruit, the dusky faces of the
servants as they cut and sliced, and handed plates to the eager and
waiting guests.

Becky, standing back in the shadows with Randy by her side, watched the
men surge towards the table, and retire with their loads of lusciousness.
Grinning boys were up to their ears in juice, girls, bare-armed and
bare-necked, reached for plates held teasingly aloft. It was all rather
innocently bacchanal--a picture which for Becky had an absolutely
impersonal quality. She had entertained her guests as she had eaten her
dinner, outwardly doing the normal and conventional thing, while her mind
was chaotic. This jumble of people on the lawn seemed unreal and
detached. The only real people in the world were herself and Dalton.

"How did you happen to ask us?" Randy was saying.

"Because I wanted you----"

"That doesn't explain it. It has something to do with Dalton----"

"He said he was coming--and I wanted a crowd."

"Were you afraid to see him alone?"

"He says that I am."

"When did he say it?"

"Just now. He's in the garden, Randy."

"Waiting for you?"

"He says that he is waiting."

Randy gave a quick exclamation. "Surely you won't go."

"Why not? I've got to turn--the knife----"

He groaned. "So this is what I've let you in for----"

"Well, I shall see it through, Randy."

"Becky, don't go to him in the garden."

"Why not?"

"The whole thing is wrong," the boy said, slowly. "I lied to give you
your opportunity, and now, I'd rather die than think of you out there----"

"Then you don't trust me, Randy?"

"My dear, I do. But I don't trust--him."

IV

George had known that she would come. Yet when he saw the white blur of
her gown against the bl