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enough to do, and they live like the Scilly islanders by taking in each other's dirty linen. If there isn't enough dirty linen to go around, they manufacture it."

    She must be uncertain, I thought, or she wouldn't be talking so much and so well. Martel was in some degree her responsibility. She said into the silence between us: "Have you found out anything against him?' "Not really. Not yet."

    "You imply that you expect to."

    "I don't know. How did you become acquainted with him, through a real-estate broker?"

    "Oh no, we have friends in common."

    "Here in Montevista?"

    "In Washington," she said, "more precisely, in Georgetown. General Bagshaw and I once lived in Georgetown."

    "And you met Martel there?"

    "I didn't say that. He knew some old neighbors of ours-" She hesitated, looking at me doubtfully. "I don't believe I ought to give you their name."

    "It would help if you did."

    "No. They're very fine and gentle people, and I don't want them bothered with this sort of thing."

    "Martel used them as a reference. They might not approve of that. They may not even know him."

    "I'm sure they do."

    "Did they give him a letter of introduction?"

    "No."

    "Then all you have is his word?"

    "It seems - it seemed to be enough. He talked very freely and fully about them."

    But the doubt with which she regarded me was spreading and deepening, undercutting her confidence in her own judgment. "Do you seriously believe he's some sort of impostor?"

    "My mind is open on the subject. I'm trying to open yours."

    "And pry a name out of me," she said rather grimly.

    "I don't need the name if you'll help."

    "How can I help?"

    "Call your Georgetown friends and ask them what they know about Martel."

    She lifted her head. "I may do that."

    "Please do. They're the only real lead I have."

    "I will. Tonight."

    "May I check with you later then?"

    "I suppose you may."

    "I'm sorry if I've upset you."

    "You haven't. It's the moral question, really. Did I do right or wrong? Of course if we stopped to consider the possible consequences of everything we do, we'd end up doing nothing."

    "How soon is he leaving?"

    "Immediately, I think. Today or tomorrow."

    "Did he say why?"

    "No. He's very reticent. But I know why. Everyone's suspicious of him. He's made no friends here."

    "Except Ginny."

    "He didn't mention her."

    "Or say where he was going?"

    "No."

    7

    PETER MET ME at the gate in the picket fence. Professor Tappinger was home now, and would see us.

    He lived in the adjoining harbor city, in a rather rundown tract whose one obvious advantage was a view of the ocean. The sun, heavy and red, was almost down on the horizon now. Its image floated like spilled fire on the water.

    The Tappinger house was a green stucco cottage, which except for its color duplicated every third house in the block. The cement walk which led up to the front door was an obstacle course of roller skates, a bicycle, a tricycle. A girl of six or seven answered the door. She had a Dutch bob and enormous watching eyes.

    "Daddy says that you can join him in the study."

    She led us through the trampled-looking living room into the kitchen. A woman was bowed over the sink in a passive-aggressive attitude, peeling potatoes. A boy of about three was butting her in the legs and chortling. She paid no attention to him and very little to us. She was a good-looking woman no more than thirty, with a youthful ponytail, and blue eyes, which passed over me coolly.

    "He's in the study," she said, and gestured with one elbow toward a door.

    It let us into a converted garage lined with bookshelves. A fluorescent fixture hung on a chain over a work table cluttered with open books and papers. The professor was seated there with his back to us. He didn't turn around when Peter spoke to him. The implication seemed to be that we were interrupting important brainwork.

    "Professor Tappinger?" Peter said again.

    "I hear you."

    His voice was impatient. "Excuse me for