"
"Yes; but they'd do it."
"Probably they'd have to."
"And then they wouldn't be lonely."
"Quite so. Isn't that what I say?"
"Yes; but don't you forget one thing?"
"What's that?"
"They'd be doing it for some one else. They wouldn't be doing it for
themselves. And don't you think they get the impetus to do it from
that?"
She leant forward--no sign of triumph in her face--and watched his
eyes. She knew he could not reply to that. He knew it too. He pulled
strenuously at his cigarette, then flung it into the empty fireplace.
"Then what is your point?" he asked firmly. He beat around no bushes.
That was not the nature of him. This was a difficulty. He faced it.
This was the scene she had deftly been leading up to. Let her have
it out and he would tell her straight, once and for all. "What is
your point?" he repeated. "You want me to come back--go through the
same business all over again?"
"No!"
Now he was puzzled. His eyes frowned straight into hers.
"Then what? Come along, Sally, out with it."
She turned her head away. He heard the sound in her throat as she
began to form the words. But she could not say it. Then her hands
covered her face, for a moment stayed there; at last she took them
away and met the beating gaze of his eyes.
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