She did not answer at once, but picked up a pen from beneath her hand on the desk, and turning it, meditatively felt its point with her forefinger before she said slowly, "Are most men careful of other people's—well, of other people's money?"
"You mean Martin Pike?" he asked.
"Yes. I want you to take charge of everything I have for me."
He bent a frowning regard upon the lamp-shade. "You ought to look after your own property," he said. "You surely have plenty of time."
"You mean—you mean you won't help me?" she returned, with intentional pathos.
"Ariel!" he laughed, shortly, in answer; then asked, "What makes you think Judge Pike isn't trustworthy?"
"Nothing very definite perhaps, unless it was his look when I told him that I meant to ask you to take charge of things for me."
"He's been rather hard pressed this year, I think," said Joe. "You might be right—if he could have found a way. I hope he hasn't."
"I'm afraid," she began, gayly, "that I know very little of my own affairs. He sent me a draft every three months, with receipts and other things to sign and return to him. I haven't the faintest notion of what I own—except the old house and some money from the income that I hadn't used and brought with me. Judge Pike has all the papers—everything."
Joe looked troubled. "And Roger Tabor, did he—"