Before her was the wide sweep of the swampy fore-shore, and beyond just beginning to silver in the moonlight, the bend of the river growing out of the black void.

With her eyes on the river and her hands clasped loosely she watched the distant line of the Arkansas coast grow up against the sky; she realized that the moon was rising on Betty Malroy for the last time.
She liked Charley; she needed some one to take care of her and her belongings, and he needed her.

It was best for them both that she should marry him.

True she might have gone back to Judith Ferris; that would have been one solution of her difficulties.

Why hadn't she thought of doing this before?
Of course, Charley would have followed her East.
Charley met the ordinary duties and responsibilities of his position somewhat recklessly; it was only where she was concerned that he became patiently determined.
"I suppose the end would have been the same there as here," thought Betty.
A moment later she found herself wondering if Charley had told Carrington yet; certainly the Kentuckian would not remain at Thicket Point when he knew.