It was Larry all over! Last night
horrified and humble, this morning, "Don't care" and feather-headed. He
said sourly:
"Oh! You can joke about it now?"
Laurence turned his face to the wall.
"Must."
Fatalism! How detestable were natures like that!
"I've been to see her," he said.
"You?"
"Last night. She can be trusted."
Laurence laughed.
"That I told you."
"I had to see for myself. You must clear out at once, Larry. She can
come out to you by the next boat; but you can't go together. Have you
any money?"
"No."
"I can foot your expenses, and lend you a year's income in advance. But
it must be a clean cut; after you get out there your whereabouts must
only be known to me."
A long sigh answered him.
"You're very good to me, Keith; you've always been very good. I don't
know why."
Keith answered drily
"Nor I. There's a boat to the Argentine tomorrow. You're in luck;
they've made an arrest. It's in the paper."
"What?"
The cigarette end dropped, the thin pyjama'd figure writhed up and stood
clutching at the bedrail.
"What?"
The disturbing thought flitted through Keith's brain: 'I was a fool. He
takes it queerly; what now?'
Laurence passed his hand over his forehead, and sat down on the bed.
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