of Daylight's personality creep out and
around her. Filament by filament, these secret and undreamable bonds
were being established. They it was that could have given the cue to
her saying yes when she had meant to say no. And in some such fashion,
in some future crisis of greater moment, might she not, in violation of
all dictates of sober judgment, give another unintentional consent?

Among other good things resulting from his growing intimacy with Dede,
was Daylight's not caring to drink so much as formerly. There was a
lessening in desire for alcohol of which even he at last became aware.
In a way she herself was the needed inhibition. The thought of her was
like a cocktail. Or, at any rate, she substituted for a certain
percentage of cocktails. From the strain of his unnatural city
existence and of his intense gambling operations, he had drifted on to
the cocktail route. A wall must forever be built to give him easement
from the high pitch, and Dede became a part of this wall. Her
personality, her laughter, the intonations of her voice, the impossible
golden glow of her eyes, the light on her hair, her form, her dress,
her actions on horseback, her merest physical mannerisms--all, pictured
over and over in his mind and dwelt upon, served to take the place of
many a cocktail or long Scotch and soda.

In spite of their high resolve, there was a very measurable degree of
the furtive in their meetings. In essence, these meetings were stolen.
They did not ride out brazenly together in the face of the world. On
the contrary, they met always unobserved, she riding across the
many-gated backroad from Berkeley to meet him halfway. Nor did they
ride on any save unfrequented roads, preferring to cross the second
range of hills and travel among a church-going farmer folk who would
scarcely have recognized even Daylight from his newspaper photographs.

He found Dede a good horsewoman--good not merely in riding but in
endurance. There were days when they covered sixty, seventy, and even
eighty miles; nor did Dede ever claim any day too long, nor--another
strong recommendation to Daylight--did the hardest day ever the
slightest chafe of the chestnut sorrel's back. "A sure enough hummer,"
was Daylight's stereotyped but ever enthusiastic verdict to himself.

They learned much of each other on these long, uninterrupted rides.
They had nothing much to talk about but themselves, and, while she
received a liberal educati