"What's the matter?" he asked, as after dinner he and I went out to the screened porch to drink our coffee.
"Why, nothing," I responded guiltily. "Why do you ask?"
"You act as if you thought you had the responsibility of the great war on your shoulders," Dicky returned.
"I haven't a care in the world," I assured him gayly, and arousing myself from my depression I spent the next hour in gay, inconsequential chatter in an attempt to prove to Dicky that I meant what I said.
In the kitchen I heard the voices of Jim and Katie. They were raised earnestly as if discussing something about which they disagreed. Presently Katie appeared on the veranda.
"Plees, Missis Graham, can you joost coom to kitchen, joost one little meenit."
"Certainly, Katie," I replied, rising, while Dicky mumbled a half-laughing, half-serious protest.
"I'll be back in a minute, Dicky," I promised, lightly.
It was full five before I returned, for Jim had something to tell me, which confirmed my impression that the mysterious stranger's spying upon me was something to be reckoned with.
"I didn't think I ought to worry you with this, Mrs. Graham, but Katie thinks you ought to know it, and what she says goes, you know." He cast a fatuous smile at the girl, who giggled joyously. "To-night, down at Crest Haven, I overheard one of the taxi drivers telling another about a guy that had come down there and described a woman whom he said must have gotten off at Crest Haven and taken a taxi back to Marvin. The description fitted you all right, and the driver gave him your name and address. He said he got a five spot for doing it."