But
presently the police and Barney and the others will learn where I am.
Then I'll have all that fight over again--only the next time it'll be
harder."
She was startled into a show of interest. "You think that's really
going to happen?"
"It's bound to. There's no escaping it. If for no other reason, I
myself won't be able to stand being penned up indefinitely. Something
will happen, I don't know what, which will pull me out into the open
world--and then for me the deluge!"
He made this prediction grimly. He was not a fatalist, but it had been
borne in upon him recently that this thing was inescapable. As for
him, when that time came, he was going to put up the best fight that
was in him.
He caught the strained look which had come into Maggie's face, and it
prompted him suddenly to lean toward her and say:
"Maggie, do you still think I'm a stool and a squealer?"
"I--"
She broke off. She had a surging impulse to go on and say something to
Larry. A great deal. She was not conscious of what that great deal
was. She was conscious only of the impulse. There was too great a
turmoil within her, begotten by the strain of her visit on Miss
Sherwood and these unexpected meetings, for any motive, impulse, or
decision to emerge to even a brief supremacy.
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