“And why, Elice?”
“Several reasons. First of all, a practical man doesn’t carry an automobile half across the continent by express without a definite stake involved. Later he doesn’t ‘scrap,’ as you say, that same machine without regret unless the stake was big—and won.”
“You think I won, then?”
“I know.”
“And again, why?”
The girl flashed a glance, but he was not looking at her.
“Because you always win,” she said simply.
“Always?” A pause. “Always, Elice?”
“Always in matters of—money.”
The man lay there still, looking up. Barely a leaf in the big maple was astir, not a single sensate thing. Had they been the only two people alive on a desert expanse they could not have been more isolated, more completely alone. Yet he pursued the lead no further, neither by word nor suggestion. Creeping through a tiny gap 230 a ray of sunlight glared in his eyes, and he shifted enough to avoid it. That was all.