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 look in her eyes. At last she said, "Do you think that would be right? He might still be alive. He might come back."

Moses Slade grew blustering, as if he were actually jealous of that shadow of the man who kept looking down at him with an air of sardonic amusement.

"It won't make any difference if we declare him dead. Besides, he hasn't got any right to you if he is alive."

It wasn't that she was simply afraid he might return; the source of her alarm went much deeper than that. She felt that she couldn't trust herself if he did return; but of course she couldn't explain that to Moses.

"It wasn't quite that," she murmured, and, conscious that the remark didn't make sense, she asked quickly, "How long ought it to take?"

"A couple of months."

"We could be married after that?"

"Yes, as soon as possible."

Moses Slade took her hand again. "You've made me a happy man, Emma. You won't regret it." He picked up his hat. "I'd like to call to-night. Maybe you'd go to evening service with me?"

"No, I think we'd better not let any one know about it till it's settled."

"Maybe you're right. Well, I'll come to the restaurant to-morrow for lunch."

He kissed her again, a bit too ardently, she felt, to be quite pleasant, and they went into the hall. At the same moment the figure of Naomi appeared, descending the stairs heavily. She was clad only in a nightgown and a loose kimono of flowered stuff. Her hair, still