Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. Upon this topic Capes was heavy and conscientious, but that seemed to her to be just exactly what he ought to be. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Yes, of course. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. Only your horror of a grandfather insisted on coming with me, so I had to wait for him to be ready and travel at his pace. I was worried. I do not know how I shall get it, but I must, you understand. Her steps slowed. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head.
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