"Very fortunate. But it appeared that beyond--beyond running the
commissariat department, so to speak, she did next to nothing for him.
Miss--the lady I spoke of--did everything. Made herself a perfect
slave to him."

"Bought his clothes?"

"Oh," groaned the wretched man, "I suppose so. What did I know about a
baby's clothes? And she wouldn't answer my questions--said he was all
right, and didn't want for anything, as I could see with my own eyes. I
tried making presents--used to bring her curios and things--found out
her birthday, and sent her a jewel--took every chance I could see to
work off the obligation. But it was no use. She gave ME a birthday
present after I'd given her one."

"Well, if moths will go into spiders' webs," laughed his companion,
"they must take the consequences."

"Sometimes they get helped out," he replied. "Some beneficent, godlike
being puts out an omnipotent finger--"

He looked at her, and she looked at him. At this moment they seemed to
have known one another intimately for years. The moon again.

"Tell me everything," she said, "and I'll help you out."

So then he told her that he had not "this time" visited his son. He
might have added that he had come to Five Creeks partly to avoid being
visited by him. Cowardly and weak he frankly confessed himself. "But