She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. You didn’t even do that Vee; not even that. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. “No,” she answered.
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