and they had not been involved in businesses of their own so that they owed, personally, twenty-five thousand dollars.
That life insurance policy, taken to protect Mr. Fuller from loss, would not be paid if David fell in war, for the war risk was specifically excepted. And so, to the extent that David's debt confined his choice of conduct, it was true that Mr. Fuller owned his body and soul.
Of course Fidelia had money of her own which might have freed him; she had more than twice twenty-five thousand dollars in Mr. Jessop's care and, if David were killed, she might meet his obligation. But David could not suggest this to her. He had said to her once: "If I went and was killed, or put out of business, father would pack my debt to Fuller. I don't know how he'd pay it; but he'd try—he and mother. I can't think of that."
"No," said Fidelia. "You certainly can't." If she had said, "If you don't come back, I'll pay Mr. Fuller," David would have had no choice but to go.
He thought of this as he sat beside her in the dark of the deck and her warm hand softly caressed his. He thought: "If she'd said that, she'd feel she was sending me away. She wouldn't do that."
They went in swimming from the boat and late in the evening the I'll Show You skimmed back toward the hotel, sailing so close to the shore that individual lights became discernible.
There was Alice's home; there, indeed, was Alice's window alight. While David watched it, the light went out and he thought of Alice there.
