“ — I don’t know,” she went on. “I must have time, either to work it out myself or to let it work itself out. If it only weren’t for Dick� “ her voice trailed off pathetically.

Unconsciously, Graham’s hand went farther about her shoulder.

“No, no — not yet,” she said softly, as softly she removed it, her own lingering caressingly on his a moment ere she released it. “When you touch me, I can’t think,” she begged. “I — I can’t think.”

“Then I must go,” he threatened, without any sense of threatening. She made a gesture of protest. “The present situation is impossible, unbearable. I feel like a cur, and all the time I know I am not a cur. I hate deception —