Not until they were back in
the manager's office and Helen was ready to return to the outside world
did John Ward speak.
Facing her with his straightforward soldierly manner, he said,
inquiringly, "Well?"
She returned his look with steady frankness. "I can't tell you what I
think about it all now, John dear. Sometime, perhaps, I may try. It is
too big--too vital--too close. I am glad I came. I am sorry, too."
So he took her to her waiting car.
For a moment he stood looking thoughtfully after the departing machine
and then, with an odd little smile, went back to his work.
CHAPTER XVII
IN THE NIGHT
Helen knew, even as she told the chauffeur to drive her home, that she
did not wish to return just then to the big house on the hill. Her mind
was too crowded with thoughts she could not entertain in the atmosphere
of her home; her heart was too deeply moved by emotions that she
scarcely dared acknowledge even to herself.
She thought of the country club, but that, in her present mood, was
impossible. The Interpreter--she was about to tell Tom that she wished
to call at the hut on the cliff, but decided against it. She feared
that she might reveal to the old basket maker things that she wished to
hide. She might go for a drive in the country, but she shrank from
being alone.
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