“Do you think I don’t understand?”
“Perhaps you do. I—I don’t really care a lot about him, Max. But I’ve been down-hearted. He cheers me up.”
Her attraction for him was almost gone—not quite. He felt rather sorry for her.
“I’m sorry. Then you are not angry with me?”
“Angry? No.” She lifted her eyes to his, and for once she was not acting. “I knew it would end, of course. I have lost a—a lover. I expected that. But I wanted to keep a friend.”
It was the right note. Why, after all, should he not be her friend? He had treated her cruelly, hideously. If she still desired his friendship, there was no disloyalty to Sidney in giving it. And Carlotta was very careful. Not once again did she allow him to see what lay in her eyes. She told him of her worries. Her training was almost over. She had a chance to take up institutional work. She abhorred the thought of private duty. What would he advise?
The Lamb was hovering near, hot eyes on them both. It was no place to talk.
“Come to the office and we’ll talk it over.”
“I don’t like to go there; Miss Simpson is suspicious.”
The institution she spoke of was in another city. It occurred to Wilson that if she took it the affair would have reached a graceful and legitimate end.
Also, the thought of another stolen evening alone with her was not unpleasant. It would be the last, he promised himself. After all, it was owing to her. He had treated her badly.
Sidney would be at a lecture that night. The evening loomed temptingly free.
“Suppose you meet me at the old corner,” he said carelessly, eyes on the Lamb, who was forgetting that he was only a junior interne and was glaring ferociously. “We’ll run out into the country and talk things over.”
She demurred, with her heart beating triumphantly.
“What’s the use of going back to that? It’s over, isn’t it?”
Her objection made him determined. When at last she had yielded, and he made his way down to the smoking- room, it was with the feeling that he had won a victory.
K. had been uneasy all that day; his ledgers irritated him. He had been sleeping badly since Sidney’s announcement of her engagement. At five o’clock, when he left the office, he found Joe Drummond waiting outside on the pavement.
“Mother said you’d been up to see me a couple of times. I thought I’d come around.”
K. looked at his watch.
“What do you say to a walk?”
“Not out in the country. I’m not as muscular as you are. I’ll go about town for a half-hour or so.”
Thus forestalled, K. found his subject hard to lead up to. But here again Joe met him more than halfway.
“Well, go on,” he said, when they found themselves in the park; “I don’t suppose you were paying a call.”
“No.”
“I guess I know what you are going to say.”
“I’m not going to preach, if you’re expecting that. Ordinarily, if a man insists on making a fool of himself, I let him alone.”
“Why make an exception of me?”
“One reason is that I happen to like you. The other reason is that, whether you admit it or not, you are acting like a young idiot, and are putting the responsibility on the shoulders of some one else.”
“She is responsible, isn’t she?”
“Not in the least. How old are you, Joe?”
“Twenty-three, almost.”
“Exactly. You are a man, and you are acting like a bad boy. It’s a disappointment to me. It’s more than that to Sidney.”
“Much she cares! She’s going to marry Wilson, isn’t she?”
“There is no announcement of any engagement.”
“She is, and you know it. Well, she’ll be happy—not! If I’d go to her tonight and tell her what I know, she’d never see him again.” The idea, thus born in his overwrought brain, obsessed him. He returned to it again and again. Le Moyne was uneasy. He was not certain that the boy’s statement had any basis in fact. His single determination was to save Sidney from any pain.
When Joe suddenly announced his inclination to go out into the country after all, he suspected a ruse to get rid of him, and insisted on going along. Joe consented grudgingly.
“Car’s at Bailey’s garage,” he said sullenly. “I don’t know when I’ll get back.”
“That won’t matter.” K.‘s tone was cheerful. “I’m not sleeping, anyhow.”
That passed unnoticed until they were on the highroad, with the car running smoothly between yellowing fields of wheat. Then:—
“So you’ve got it too!” he said. “We’re a fine pair of fools. We’d both be better off if I sent the car over a bank.”
