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suitcase.
    Isobel Blackwell had come out of the house and down the veranda steps. As she passed between me and her husband, she pressed his shoulder in sympathy and perhaps in admonition. She went up to Harriet
    “I wish you wouldn’t do this to your father.”
    “I’m not doing anything
to
him.”
    “He feels it that way. He loves you, you know.”
    “I don’t love him.”
    “I’m sure you’ll regret saying that, Harriet. When you do, please let him know.”
    “Why should I bother? He has you.”
    Isobel shrugged, as though the possession of herself was no great boon to anyone. “You’re more important to him than I am. You could break his heart.”
    “He’s going to have to get over it then. I’m sorry if you feel badly.” In a quick uprush of feeling, Harriet embraced the older woman. “You’ve been the best to me—better than I deserve.”
    Isobel patted her back, looking past her at Damis. He had been watching the two of them like a spectator at a game on which he had placed a moderate bet.
    “I hope you’ll take good care of her, Mr. Damis.”
    “I can try.”
    “Where are you taking her?”
    “Away from here.”
    “That isn’t very informative.”
    “It wasn’t intended to be. This is a big country, also a free one. Let’s go, Harriet.”
    She disengaged herself from her stepmother and got into the driver’s seat of her car. Damis climbed in beside her. I made a note of the license number as they drove away. Neither of them looked back.
    Blackwell approached us, walking rather uncertainly in the gravel. His body seemed to have shrunk some more in his clothes, while his large face had grown larger.
    “You let them go,” he said accusingly.
    “I had nothing to stop them with. I can’t use force.”
    “You should have followed them.”
    “What for? You said you’d washed your hands of them.”
    His wife spoke up: “Perhaps it would be better if you did that, Mark. You can’t go on in this fashion, letting the situation drive you crazy. You might as well accept it.”
    “I refuse to accept it, and it’s not driving me crazy. I’ve never been saner in my life. I resent the implication that I’m not.”
    The ranting rhythm was taking over his voice again. She laid her gentle admonishing hand on his arm.
    “Come into the house. You need to relax, after all you’ve been through.”
    “Leave me alone.” He flung her hand off and said to me: “I want Damis put in jail, do you hear me?”
    “To do that, you’d have to prove that he’s committed a jailable offense.”
    “What about taking a girl across a state line for immoral purposes?”
    “Has he done that?”
    “He transported my daughter from Mexico—”
    “But marriage isn’t considered an immoral purpose under the law.”
    Isobel Blackwell tittered unexpectedly.
    He turned on her. “You think it’s funny, do you?”
    “Not particularly. But it’s better to laugh than to weep. Andbetter to marry than to burn. I’m quoting your own words to me, remember?”
    Her tone was serious, but there was irony in it. Blackwell stalked toward the house, picking up his shotgun on the way. He slammed the front door so violently that the dove flew up with whistling wings from the television antenna. Isobel Blackwell spread her arms as though a larger bird had escaped from them.
    “What am I going to do with him?”
    “Give him a tranquilizer.”
    “Mark has been
eating
tranquilizers all week. It doesn’t seem to help his nerves. If he goes on at this rate, I’m afraid he’ll shake himself to pieces.”
    “It’s other people I’m worried about.”
    “You mean the young man—Damis?”
    “I mean anyone who crosses him.”
    She touched me lightly on the arm. “You don’t think he’s capable of doing actual harm to anyone?”
    “You know him better than I do.”
    “I thought I knew Mark very well indeed. But he’s changed in the last year. He’s always been a gentle man. I never thought he belonged in the military