And it made me--ugly." "And that was--all ?" she whispered, a tense waiting in her eyes.

"You didn't think----" "What Quade thought," he bit in sharply.

The grip of his fingers hurt her hand.

"No, not that.

My God, I didn't make you think _that ?_" "I'm a stranger--and they say women don't go to Tete Jaune alone," she answered doubtfully.
"That's true, they don't--not as a general rule.