meaningless. To Betty, shaken by her encounter with Mr. Scobell, they
sounded artificial, as if he were forcing himself to repeat a lesson.
They jarred upon her.

"Don't!" she said sharply. "Oh, don't!"

Her voice stabbed him. It could not have stirred him more if she had
uttered a cry of physical pain.

"Don't! I know. I've been told."

"Been told?"

She went on quickly.

"I know all about it. My stepfather has just told me. He said--he said
you were his--" she choked--"his hired man; that he paid you to stay
here and advertise the Casino. Oh, it's too horrible! That it should be
you! You, who have been--you can't understand what you--have been to
me--ever since we met; you couldn't understand. I can't tell you--a
sort of help--something--something that--I can't put it into words.
Only it used to help me just to think of you. It was almost impersonal.
I didn't mind if I never saw you again. I didn't expect ever to see you
again. It was just being able to think of you. It helped--you were
something I could trust. Something strong--solid." She laughed
bitterly. "I suppose I made a hero of you. Girls are fools. But it
helped me to feel that there was one man alive who--who put his honor
above money--"

She broke off. John stood motionless, staring at the ground. For the