Wallie stared at his mother. His mind was at once protesting the

fact and accepting it, with its consequences to himself. There was

a perceptible pause before he spoke. He stood, if anything, somewhat

straighter, but that was all.

"Are you sure it was Livingstone?"

"Positive. I talked to him. I wasn't sure myself, at first. He looked

shabby and thin, as though he'd been ill, and he had the audacity to

pretend at first he didn't know me. He closed the door on me and--"

"Wait a minute, mother. What door?"

"He was driving a taxicab."

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He looked at her incredulously.

"I don't believe it," he said slowly. "I think you've made a mistake,

that's all."

"Nonsense. I know him as well as I know you."

"Did he acknowledge his identity?"

"Not in so many words," she admitted. "He said I had made a mistake, and

he stuck to it. Then he shut the door and drove me to the station. The

only other chance I had was at the station, and there was a line of

cabs behind us, so I had only a second. I saw he didn't intend to admit

anything, so I said: 'I can see you don't mean to recognize me, Doctor

Livingstone, but I must know whether I am to say at home that I've seen

you.' He was making change for me at the time--I'd have known his hands,

I think, if I hadn't seen anything else-and when he looked up his face

was shocking. He said, 'Are they all right?' 'David is very ill,' I

said. The cars behind were waiting and making a terrific din, and a

traffic man ran up then and made him move on. He gave me the strangest

look as he went. I stood and waited, thinking he would turn and come

back again at the end of the line, but he didn't. I almost missed my

train."

Wallie's first reaction to the news was one of burning anger and

condemnation.

"The blackguard!" he said. "The insufferable cad! To have run away as

he did, and then to let them believe him dead! For that's what they do

believe. It is killing David Livingstone, and as for Elizabeth--She'll

have to be told, mother. He's alive. He's well. And he has deliberately

deserted them all. He ought to be shot."

"You didn't see him, Wallie. I did. He's been through something, I don't

know what. I didn't sleep last night for thinking of his face. It had

despair in it."




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