t it."

"Forgive me, if I seem to contradict you. You did not tell all."

Cassy stiffened.

"How could you?" Jones continued. "Details are so tiresome. To-day when
I was talking to Dunwoodie, I advanced a few. Dunwoodie is a very
ordinary person. Details bore you, they bore me. He dotes on them. By
the way, you said something about changing your name. I wish you would.
Couldn't you take mine?"

"You are ridiculous."

"As you like. Any one else would call me mercenary."

He's crazy, Cassy uncomfortably reflected. What shall I do?

Modestly the novelist motioned. "Ten Eyck Jones now! It doesn't rhyme
with Victor Hugo or even with Andrew Carnegie, but it has a lilt. It
might be worse."

"What are you talking about?" Cassy, with increasing discomfort, put in.

"There is a little thing that turns men into flint and women into putty.
That's what I am talking about. I am talking money."

"Thank you. The subject does not interest me."

"Ah, but you are evolved! Would that the butcher were! We all have to
consider his incapacities and money helps us. I have an idea that your
dear departed may have left you a trifle."

"Really, Mr. Jones, you are talking nonsense."

"It is a specialty of mine."

"Besides, it is impossible."

"Impossible is a word that intelligent young women never employ."

"Very good. Admitting the possibility, I won't take it."

"It might be paid into your bank."

"I haven't any bank."

"One could be found for you."

"I would tell them not to accept it."

"The bank that won't accept money does not exist."

Cassy flushed. "I rather liked you. Couldn't you be less hateful?"

"You are trying to pick a quarrel with me."

"Nothing of the kind."

"Then will you let me take you to Dunwoodie?"

"Certainly not."

"Then will you go alone?"

"But why? Why should I? What does this man with an absurd name want of
me?"

Jones pulled at a cuff. "Well, look at it from this angle. Before you
discovered that your marriage was a sham, you were prepared to assume a
few obligations and some of them may still subsist. The man with the
absurd name can tell you what they are. Surely you are not a slacker.
This is war-time."

With that abandonment which is so gracious in a woman, Cassy half raised
a hand. "My front line is wavering."

Jones reached for his hat. "Over the top then!"

Under the table they crawled.

XXXIV

"Your very obedient servant, madam."

With that and a fine bo