Ruth helped in the packing.
Ernie, who came and went throughout the morning, was amazed at her.
Her heart was being eaten away; and yet she might have been packing for a stranger, so calm was she, so methodical and self-oblivious.
Once, when Ernie looked in, he saw her kneeling by the window, her back to the door, her arms deep in a half-empty trunk.
Mooney winked at him and nodded over his shoulder.
Ernie, standing in the door, met him with the face of a hostile stone.
"Can I help?" he asked.
"No, thank-you," Ruth answered. "We're nearly through."
By noon the task was finished, and the baggage downstairs piled at the back-door.
Mooney and Don John lunched together in the basement. Ernie, passing, saw them, and heard his own name mentioned. Don John was telling a story. Mooney, following Ernie with his eyes, was unpleasantly amused.