“I can't stand it to stay here and talk to these people,” she replied in an agonized whisper. “I must get away from here quick, so that I can think.”
“May I come with you?”
“No, Larry—I must be alone. Please, Larry, please get into the house, and manage to fake a telephone message for me, calling me back to New York at once.”
“All right.” And Larry hurried away. She sat, pale, breathing rapidly, her whole being clenched, staring fixedly out at the Sound. Five minutes later Larry was back.
“It's all arranged, Maggie. I've told the people; they're sorry you've got to go. And Dick is getting his car ready.”
She turned her eyes upon him. He had never seen in them such a look. They were feverish, with a dazed, affrighted horror. She clutched his arm.
“You must promise never to tell my father about me!”
“I won't. Unless I have to.”
“But you must not! Never!” she cried desperately. “He thinks I'm—Oh, don't you understand? If he were to learn what I really am, it would kill him. He must keep his dream. For his sake he must never find out, he must keep on thinking of me just the same. Now, you understand?”
Larry slowly nodded.