"It'll kill me!" he got out at last.
Molly slipped an arm under his head. She had never seen him in such a state.
"Theo, don't! Don't!" she implored. "Please don't shake so, and I'll tell you all I know."
"Very well!... I'm listening."
The words were scarcely audible, but Molly knew and hugged the thought that his belief in Jinnie Grandoken had been shaken.
"Did you hear that Jinnie was in Binghamton?"
"Yes," murmured Theodore.
The woman released her hold on Theodore, and said: "The man was over there with her."
Theodore turned his face quickly away and groaned.
"That's enough," he said. "Don't tell me any more."
They were quiet for a long time--very quiet.
Then Molly, with still enlarging plans, burst out: "What if I should bring her back to you, Theo?"
He flashed dark-circled eyes toward her.
"Could you?" he asked drearily.
"I think so, perhaps. Suppose you write her a little note, and then----"
"Ring the bell for writing material quickly."
He had all his old-time eagerness. He was partly sitting up, and Molly placed another pillow under his head.
Theodore wrote steadily for some moments. Then he addressed an envelope to "Jinnie Grandoken," placed the letter in it, and fastened down the flap.
"You won't mind?" he asked wearily, handing it to Molly and sinking back.
Molly took the letter, and with a few more words, went out. Once at home in her bedroom, she sat down, breathing deeply. With a hearty good will she could have torn the letter into shreds, but instead she ripped open the envelope and read it.
After she had finished, she let the paper flutter from her hand and sat thinking for a long time. Then, sighing, she got up and tucked the letter inside her dress.