John Ryder pushed his coffee-cup aside, rose, and wrapped her cloak around her, without a word. Still silent, he put her into the cab and took a seat beside her.
"I shall go to-night," he said after a little.
"Go? Where?"
Belinda's voice was surprised, regretful.
The man looked down at her.
"It's a good deal better. I belong out there. There's no place for me here, unless——"
He stopped and shook his head impatiently.
"I'd better go. I'd only make a fool of myself if I stayed. I'll run up and spend a day with the girls and then I'll hit the trail for the ranch again. I'll be contented out there—perhaps. There's something here that gets into a man's veins and makes him want things he can't have."
"I'm sorry," Belinda murmured vaguely. "It's been very nice, hasn't it?"
He laid a large hand over her small ones.