Sheppard now directed her steps. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. '" "Slave?" echoed Jack. ” She looked at him quizzically. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. Well, come back in half an hour.
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