What he did down here in the valleys did not matter. Purification
waited for him among the summit snows. He turned back to hear the last
of Sally Bent's voice, whipping his eyes past Gaspar to avoid meeting
again that clinging stare.

"Sally Bent," he said, "do you know the prisoner?"

"You know I know him. John Gaspar boards with us."

"Ah, then you know him!"

"That's a silly question. What I want to say is--"

"Wait till you're asked, Sally Bent."

She stamped her foot. Quietly Sinclair compared the girl and the
accused man.

"Here's the point," he said slowly. "You knew Quade, and you knew John
Gaspar."

"Yes."

"You know Quade's dead?"

"I've just heard it."

"You didn't like him much?"

"I used to like him."