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It was the afternoon of the day before Christine's night visit to Sidney

The office had been closed, owing to a death, and Palmer was in possession

of a holiday

"Co Rose and have supper"

"I don't want to go"

"That's not true, Grace, and you know it"

"You and I are through"

"It's your doing, not mine The roads are frozen hard; an hour's run into

the country will bring your color back"

"Much you care about that Go and ride with your wife," said the girl, and

flung away froure, but she still bore

traces of her illness Her short hair was curled over her head She

looked curiously boyish, almost sexless

Because she saw him wince when she mentioned Christine, her ill teet out of here," she said suddenly "I didn't ask you to come back

I don't want you"