Part 32 (1/2)
”But if I can only keep it by being a perfect pig--”
He looked down at her face, her troubled, unnaturally earnest face.
”Of course, if you feel like that about it--”
”You'd feel like that if you were his confidential secretary and had all his correspondence.”
”Yes, yes. I see, Barbara, it won't work. I'll let you off the compact.
We can go on with him just the same.”
”We can't.”
”What? Not make a study of him?”
”No. We don't know what we're doing. It isn't safe. We may come on things any day.”
”Like the thing you came on just now.”
”I didn't say I'd come on anything.”
”All right, you didn't. He shall be our unfinished book, Barbara.”
”He'll be _your_ unfinished book. I've finished mine all right. Anything else will be simply appendix.”
”You think you've got him complete?”
”Fairly complete.”
”Oh, Barbara--”
”Don't tempt me, Ralph.”
”After all,” he said, ”we were only playing with him.”
”Well, we mustn't do it again.”
”Never any more?”
”Never any more. I know it's a game for G.o.ds; but it's a cruel game. We must give it up.”
”You mean we must give him up?”
”Yes, we've hunted and hounded him enough. We must let him go.”
”That's the compact, is it?”
”Yes.”
”We shall break it, Barbara; see if we don't. We can't keep off him.”