elt it. And she was sitting very close. With an easy
stretching of cramped muscles he slid his arm along the back of the
seat and let it slip carelessly about her shoulder. There was a moment
of delicious freedom and relaxation, of kindliness and friendliness
and a thousand other little sensations, to say nothing of a spark of a
thrill--when she moved easily forward, contracting her shoulders.

"Let's go," she said dully.

Instantly the illusion vanished. Back into his self-belittling he
slipped and was silent. Away fled the ease and complacency, and the
wind came up from the river and chilled his ankles.

A moment later she asked him quite brightly, "_What_ do you do?"

He had been thinking upon his sin and was startled at the casualness
of the question. He laughed, a bit nervous. "Why, didn't you know?
What'd you imagine?"

"Of course I don't know. Run some sort of plant, I would guess."

"Nope," he replied, and his voice had not the low, ringing assurance
he might have wished, but was a little too loud, a little too high.
"Nothing but this car."

"I don't understand," she replied. "How do you mean?"

"I'm selling 'em. This is a demonstrator, and I am responsible for
it."

"Oh, I see--well--isn't that nice!"

And somehow from that time on the evening grew chilly and less
pleasant and clouds came up and obscured the soft velvet sky. In a
very few minutes they turned about and went home.

She bid him a casual good-night.

When he climbed the stairs to his room about thirty minutes later,
they seemed endless. His breath was coming short as he gained the top
and a vast, sudden, sickening weariness swooped down upon his body and
consumed it. As he passed the open window in the hall the night breeze
made him shiver and he went chattering to bed. He pulled the covers up
beneath his chin and realized that he had made a fool of himself,
which somehow didn't matter much; realized that he was alone--just as
much alone as ever--which mattered quite a lot. All this and the chill
shivering and the vast, aching weariness. He fell asleep and dreamed
of desolate wastes and wanderings and parching heat.

CHAPTER XIII

Half of August had joined the past. And with it was passing Joe's
complacency. Each day brought a certain routine: customers to be
developed, doubtful and recalcitrant ones to be urged to the
purchasing point. One day's work was very like the next. But each day
passing brought a certain satisfact