"Hello, Bambina. Ah, Cary." Osterhout's face was moody.
"What's on your mind?" demanded Pat. "You look grouchy as a bear."
"Nothing," he disclaimed.
"Did you notice Dee, in church?"
Osterhout's heavy gaze lifted to study Pat's face, then passed to that of Scott. "Did you see it, too?" he muttered.
"Bobs, what was she looking for?"
"What could she have been looking for?" he fenced.
"It was so helpless, so hopeless," went on the girl; "and yet as if she had one hope left and weren't going to give up without—without looking."
Osterhout had his own private interpretation of that last, long quest of the bride's eyes before she turned them to her bridegroom, but he was not going to betray it. "All of us are a little high-strung," he opined. "Imagining a vain thing. Dee's all right."