O be cruel to be kind, sometimes," he said oracularly. "Why, the man may be married. May be anything. A taxi driver! Doesn't that in itself show that he's hiding from something?" She sat, a small obese figure made larger by her furs, and stared at him with troubled eyes. "I don't know, Wallie," she said helplessly. "In a way, it might be better to tell her. She could put him out of her mind, then. But I hate to do it. It's like stabbing a baby." He understood her, and nodded. When, after taking a turn or two about the room he again stopped in front of her his angry flush had subsided. "It's the devil of a mess," he commented. "I suppose the square thing to do is to tell Doctor David, and let him decide. I've got too much at stake to be a judge of what to