"Don't count?" he exclaimed. "Why—"
He stifled the words that sprang to his lips. It was only because she thought she did not count that she was able to feel comfortable. Once let her know that she counted as at that moment she did count to him, and even what little happiness he was able to bring her would vanish. He would be to her then merely one of the others—even as he was to himself.
He rose abruptly.
"I must see about getting a machine," he said. "I want to start this afternoon if possible."
"I'll be ready," she agreed.
As they went out to the office, the clerk stepped up to him.
"I have secured the reservation, monsieur," he announced.
"Please cancel it," replied Monte.
"Reservation?" inquired Marjory.
"On the Calais express—for a friend of mine who has decided not to go," he answered.