Little of our life
is ruled by reason, and it is something else than logic that
produces the last feeling of conviction. Here, this something was
present where logic was lacking.
He laid his hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Take it easy, old man," he
said. "I believe you. I've always known that they didn't get along
together, although--well, I won't try to understand it. He may not
do anything further, and these fellows won't mention what happened
here; they can't."
"You know we're only half married," moaned Kirk, hardly heeding
him. "Women are apt to be jealous, aren't they, Runnels? What do
you suppose she'd do?"
"Don't worry about that. I'm thinking about Cortlandt. If he finds
out he's mistaken, what will HE do?"
"He'll have to find out. I'm going to tell him. His wife will tell
him. Good God! Do you see what an awful light it puts me in? You
don't doubt me, do you, really, old man?"
"No--but what a night this has been! It seems a year old. Come
along, now, you must get out of here. You must turn in."
"Oh, I don't feel as if I'd ever sleep again until this thing is
cleared up." His anguish swept over him in a fresh tide. "Those
boys think I did that trick to the man who befriended me!"
"Well, don't let's talk about it any more; we can't stay here all
night, anyhow.
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