She rose and came to where he was standing, and, placing a hand upon his arm, looked up into his eyes.
“Custer,” she said. “I have something to tell you. I ought to have told you before, but I have been afraid. Since last night there is no alternative but to tell you.”
“You do not have to tell me anything that you do not want to tell me,” he said. “My confidence in you is implicit. I could not both love and distrust at the same time.”
“I must tell you,” she said. “I only hope——”
“Where in the world have you been, Shannon?” cried Eva, breaking suddenly into the sitting room. “I have been away down to your place looking for you. I thought you were going to play golf with me this afternoon.”
“That’s what I came up for,” said Shannon, turning toward her.
“Well, come on, then! We’ll have to hurry, if we’re going to play eighteen holes this afternoon.”
Custer Pennington went to his room again after the girls had driven off in the direction of the Country Club. He wondered what it had been that Shannon wished to tell him. Round and round in his mind rang the words of Wilson Crumb:
“You lived with me two years—you lived with me two years—you lived with me two years!”
She had been going to explain that, he was sure; but she did not have to explain it. The girl that he loved could have done no wrong. He trusted her. He was sure of her.