Deane was thoughtful for a moment. She cupped her chin in her hands and drew her small, slippered feet up under her.
“I believe you’re right, Martin,” she observed at last. “For the first time I see that it’s a dangerous combination. I still believe, though, that Roberts is the one who, ultimately, will try to harm you. He’s done it once and although you came out, he will try it again. He seems to know your vulnerable points.”
Martin sounded a little angry.
“Why can’t we just eliminate them?”
“It isn’t quite so simple as that, Martin,” answered Deane. “Roberts and I have mutual friends. I’d always be running into him. As for Carol—he has no one; and I couldn’t bear to hurt him.” Deane stared before her. “Besides,” she added, “I’m wondering if elimination could bring about anything but superficial results. Roberts is ingenious.” She turned to Martin impulsively and put her hand upon his arm. “Martin!—somehow, I don’t know how—but somehow, Roberts will strike at us!”
In the city light, in the dusk, Deane’s eyes were wide, as though some new and frightening thought had crossed her mind.
CHAPTER XIV
Rio left the bitt on which he had been sitting. He crossed the deck and walked down the ladder as the sea caught the ship and sent her rolling in long swells toward the Gulf Stream. He was going to his bunk when a man with a blue chin and hard, bloodshot eyes got up from the table where he had been drinking beer and went to him.