"Tell me," replied Joan. She had a morbid, irresistible desire to
learn.

"No. ... And WHAT does Kells do--when he sees you every day?"

"He talks."

"What about?"

"Oh, everything except about what holds him here. He talks to me to
forget himself."

"Does he make love to you?"

Joan maintained silence. What would she do with this changed and
hopeless Jim Cleve?

"Tell me!" Jim's hands gripped her with a force that made her wince.
And now she grew as afraid of him as she had been for him. But she
had spirit enough to grow angry, also.

"Certainly he does."

Jim Cleve echoed her first word, and then through grinding teeth he
cursed. "I'm going to--stop it!" he panted, and his eyes looked big
and dark and wild in the starlight.

"You can't. I belong to Kells. You at least ought to have sense
enough to see that."