"Yes," Arlington agreed briefly, avoiding her eyes.... "Still, I must ask you to be prepared."
Joan's figure stiffened slightly, and her dark eyes widened.
"Dead?" she questioned in a low voice.
Arlington nodded. "I'm sorry.... About half an hour after we got him home."
The girl sat down suddenly and buried her face in her hands.
"Oh!" she cried in a stifled voice—"how awful!"
"There!" Arlington moved over and rested a hand familiarly on her shoulder. "Brace up. You'll forget all about this before long."
"O no—never!" she moaned through her fingers.
"But you will," he insisted, looking down at her with an odd expression. "To begin with, I'm going to make it my business to see that you forget. You must. You can't do justice to your—genius, if you keep harping on this accident. It wasn't your fault, you know. Just as soon as I've arranged a few details.... By the way, how's the Cardrow woman?"
"Asleep," Joan answered. "She hasn't made a bit of trouble since the doctor gave her that dope—whatever it was."