there.
The world was shut away and things sank into the old grooves.

During her convalescence Mary-Clare had strange visionary moments. She
seemed to be able at times to detach herself from her surroundings
and, guided by almost forgotten words of Northrup's, find herself--with
him. And always he was alone. She never visualized his mother; she
could, thank heaven, eliminate Kathryn.

She was alone with Northrup in a high place. They did not speak or
touch each other--but they knew and were glad! There seemed to be
mists below them, surrounding them; mists that now and then parted,
and she and Northrup would eagerly try to--see things! Mary-Clare
imagined herself in that high place as she did Northrup, a personality
quite outside her own.

After awhile those moments took more definite shape and form. She and
Northrup were trying to see their city in the mists; trying to create
their city.

This became a thrilling mental exercise to Mary-Clare, and in time
she saw a city. Once or twice she almost felt him as she, that girl of
her own creation, reached out to the man whom she loved; who loved
her, but who knew, as she did, that love asks renunciation at times as
well as acceptance if one were to keep--truth.

Presently Mary-Clare was able to walk in the sunshine and then she
often went to the deserted chapel and sat silent for hours.

And there Maclin found her one day--a smiling, ingratiating Maclin.
Maclin had been much disturbed by Larry's abrupt and, up to the
present, successful escape. Of course Maclin's very one-track mind had
at the hour of Rivers's disappearance accounted for things in a
primitive way. Northrup had bought Larry off! That was simple enough
until Northrup himself disappeared.

At this Maclin was obliged to do some original conjecturing. There
must have been a scene--likely enough in that wood cabin. Northrup's
woman had got the whip hand and Northrup had accepted terms--leaving
Mary-Clare. That would account for the illness.

So far, so good. But with both Larry and Northrup off the ground, the
Heathcotes would have to take responsibility. This would be the
psychological moment to buy the Point! So Maclin, keeping watch,
followed Mary-Clare to chapel island.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed as if surprised to see the girl in the
angle of the old church. "Decided to get well, eh? Taking a sun
bath?"

Mary-Clare gathered her cloak closer, as if shrinking from the
smiling, unwholesome-lookin