"Yes; but I don't trust any fellow that'll go with a girl and be ashamed to be seen with her."
"How do you know he's ashamed to be seen with her?"
"Because he comes sneaking in here after we've all gone to bed. He don't ring the door-bell; he honks once or twice; and then I hear Rose slipping past my door."
"I didn't know any of Rose's beaux had a machine."
"They haven't. This is some rich guy that thinks any girl that works for her living is an easy mark. I'll show him a thing or two! I'll break his damned—— Listen! There's an automobile stopping now."
He started excitedly down the steps, but Quin grasped his arms.
"Come back here, Cass! You can't go cavorting out there in your pajamas, making a mess of things. You leave it to me. I'll go out the side way and amble around to the front door the same time they do. They'll think I'm just getting home, and I can size him up for you."
The next moment he was out of the house, over the low hedge, and casually sauntering toward the corner. The night was very dark, lightened only by the swinging street lamp and the two staring eyes of an automobile that had stopped a little distance from the house. Quin saw Rose dart out of the shadows and run toward the house. Some one called her name softly and peremptorily, but she did not stop. A man was following her out of the shadows. But Quin did not wait for him to arrive; he promptly stepped around the corner and met Rose at the front gate.
"What's up?" he demanded, seeing her quivering lips and angry, excited eyes.
"Tell him to go away!" she whispered, trying to get the gate open. "Tell him I never want him to speak to me again. He can't apologize—there isn't anything he can say. Just make him go away, that's all."