know why you protect him."

"I am not at all desirous of protecting him, Donald. I am merely
striving to protect his legal wife. His marriage to me was bigamous;
he undertook the task of leading a dual married life, and, when I
discovered it, I left him."

"But are you certain he married you?"

"We went through a marriage ceremony which, at the time, I regarded as
quite genuine. Of course, since it wasn't legal, it leaves me in the
status of an unmarried woman."

"So I understood from your father. Where did this ceremony take
place?"

"In San Francisco." She came over, sat down beside him, and took one
of his hard, big hands in both of hers. "I'm going to tell you as much
as I dare," she informed him soberly. "You have a right to know, and
you're too nice to ask questions. So I'll not leave you to the agonies
of doubt and curiosity. You see, honey dear, father Brent wanted me to
have vocal and piano lessons, and to do that I had to go to Seattle
once a week, and the railroad-fare, in addition to the cost of the
lessons, was prohibitive until your father was good enough to secure
me a position in the railroad-agent's office in Port Agnew. Of course,
after I became an employe of the railroad company, I could travel on a
pass, so I used to go up to Seattle every Saturday, leaving here on
the morning train. Your father arranged matters in some way so that I
worked but five days a week."

"Naturally. Dad's a pretty heavy shipper over the line."

"I would receive my lessons late Saturday afternoons, stay overnight
with a friend of mine, and return to Port Agnew on Sunday. _He_ used
to board the train at--well, the name of the station doesn't
matter--every Saturday, and one day we got acquainted, quite by
accident as it were. Our train ran through an open switch and collided
with the rear end of a freight; there was considerable excitement, and
everybody spoke to everybody else, and after that it didn't appear
that we were strangers. The next Saturday, when he boarded the train,
he sat down in the same seat with me and asked permission to introduce
himself. He was very nice, and his manners were beautiful; he didn't
act in the least like a man who desired to 'make a mash.' Finally, one
day, he asked me to have dinner with him in Seattle, and I accepted. I
think that was because I'd never been in a fashionable restaurant in
all my life. After dinner, he escorted me to the studio, and on Sunday
morning we took the same