ring why the girl stayed now that
he had told her Dorothy had gone home.

"Us girls." Marjorie flashed at him the sub-captain look. "May I sit
down?" she asked softly.

"Sure." John Dene was regarding her much as he might a blue zebra that
had strayed into his office.

"Thank you, Mr. Dene." Marjorie sat down, crossing her legs in a way
that gave him the full benefit of a dainty foot and ankle. She had on
her very best silk stockings, silk all the way up, so that there need
be no anxiety as to the exact whereabouts of her skirt.

"I have been wondering about Wessie----"

"Wessie, who's she, a cat?"

Marjorie dimpled, then she laughed outright.

"You are funny, Mr. Dene," and again she drew in her lower lip and
raked him with her eyes.

"Who's Wessie, anyhow?" he demanded.

"Wessie's Dorothy," she explained. "You see," she went on, "her name's
West and----"

"I get you." John Dene continued to regard her with a look that
suggested he was still at a loss to account for her presence.

"As I said," she continued, "I've been wondering about Dorothy."

"Wondering what?"

John Dene was certainly a most difficult man to talk to, she decided.

"She's thinner," announced Marjorie after a slight pause.

"Thinner?"

"Yes, not so fat." How absurd he was with his----

"She never was fat." There was decision in John Dene's tone.

"You know, Mr. Dene, you're very difficult for a girl to talk to," said
Marjorie.

"I never had time to learn," he said simply.

"I think it's through you, Mr. Dene." She gave him a little fugitive
smile she had learned from an American film, and had practised
assiduously at home.

"What's through me?" he demanded, hopelessly at sea as to her drift.

"At first I thought you were working her too hard, Mr. Dene, but," she
added hastily, as if in anticipation of protest, "but--but----"

"But what?" John Dene rapped out the words with a peremptoriness that
startled Marjorie.

"But when you got lost----" She hesitated.

"Got what?"

"I mean when you disappeared," she added hastily, "then I knew."

"Knew what?"

Marjorie no longer had any doubts about John Dene's interest in
Dorothy. He had swung round his chair, and was now seated directly
facing her.

"You know she worried," continued Marjorie, "and she got pale and----"
Again she paused.

John Dene continued to stare in a way that made her frightened to look
up, although she watched him furtively through her