Mrs. Peyton rose with a distracted sigh. "I half hope he won't, for such a
motive," she exclaimed.

"The motive won't show in his work," said Darrow. He added, after a pause
probably devoted to the search for the right word: "He seems to think a
great deal of her."

Mrs. Peyton fixed him thoughtfully. "I wish I knew what _you_ think of
her."

"Why, I never saw her before."

"No; but you talked with her to-day. You've formed an opinion: I think you
came here on purpose."

He chuckled joyously at her discernment: she had always seemed to him
gifted with supernatural insight. "Well, I did want to see her," he owned.

"And what do you think?"

He took a few vague steps and then halted before Mrs. Peyton. "I think," he
said, smiling, "that she likes to be helped first, and to have everything
on her plate at once."


III

At dinner, with a rush of contrition, Mrs. Peyton remembered that she had
after all not spoken to Darrow about his health. He had distracted her