"All right, my dear. Stick to your Clare. As long as you're happy, I suppose it's all right. Well, I'd better be off. Where's Elsbeth?"
"Be off? Where?" Alwynne looked startled.
"To pack my traps. I'm going home."
"Oh, Roger, you're not angry with me?"
"I am, rather," he said. "But you needn't mind me. You don't, do you?"
She looked at him piteously.
"Good-bye," he said. He shook hands perfunctorily and turned away.
"You're angry—oh, you are!" cried Alwynne, following him.
He laughed.
"You can't pay Clare without robbing Roger. Don't worry, Alwynne."