She did not answer. He said again: “Good night,” and he turned and went down to the gate, and away.
Joan watched him go. She thought she ought to be angry with him, and hurt. She was surprised to discover that she was rather proud of Wint, instead; proud of him for being angry, even at her, for the sake of his friend, and for the sake of Hetty.
She was troubled, because she thought he was wrong; but she was infinitely proud, too, because he had stuck by his guns.
CHAPTER X
THE STREET CARNIVAL
JOAN’S warning as to Jack Routt, her word as to Hetty, and Wint’s rejection of both warning and advice did not lead to a break between them. They met next day, and Wint had the grace to say to her:
“I’m sorry I talked as I did yesterday, last night. I was tired, and—all that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Joan told him. “It’s natural for you to stick by your friends.”
“I needn’t have talked so to you, though.”
She laughed, and said he had been all right. “I guess you’ve been imagining you were worse than you really were,” she told him. “It’s quite all right, really.”
“But I’m sorry you—dislike Jack,” he said. “He’s an awfully decent sort.”