The music was tender that night and Billy felt a strange constriction
in his throat. But you never would have guessed, as Lynn Severn turned
at the end of her melody to search the dimness for the presence she
felt had entered, that he had been under any stress of emotion, the way
he grinned at her and sidled up the aisle.

"Yeah, we won awright," in answer to her question, "Red Rodge and
Sloppy had 'em beat from the start. Those other guys can't play ball
anyway."

Then quite casually he brought forth the dollar from his breast pocket.

"Fer the Chinese Fund," he stated indifferently.

The look in her face was beautiful to see, almost as if there were
tears behind the sapphire lights in her eyes.

"Billy! All this?"

He felt as if she had knighted him. He turned red and hot with shame
and pleasure.

"Aw, that ain't much. I earned sommore too, fer m'yant." He twisted his
cap around on his other hand roughly and then blurted out the last
thing he had meant to say: "Miss Lynn, it ain't wrong to do a thing you don't know ain't wrong, is
it?"

Marilyn looked at him keenly and laughed.

"It generally is, Billy, if you think it might be. Don't ever
try to fool your conscience, Billy, it's too smart for that."