"By God!" he said. "I don't know why you should have--oh, hell!"
He whirled on his heel, as if he would go away.
She clung to the bars, pressing her face against them, trying, as it were, to thrust her lips through them.
"Oh, Archie!" she said. "Archie! Don't do that--don't go that way! Listen--listen--listen to your sister! I'm the same old Gus--honest, honest, Archie! Listen! Look at me!"
He had thrust his hands into his pockets and walked to the end of the corridor. He paused there a moment, then turned and came back.
"Say, Gus," he said, "I wish you'd go tell Mr. Marriott I want to see him again. And say, if you go out to the house, see if you can't find that shirt of mine with the white and pink stripes--you know. I guess mother knows where it is. Do that now. And--"
"Time's up," said the officer. "I've got to go."
"And come down to-morrow, Gus," said Archie. She scarcely heard him as she turned to go.
"Hold on!" he called, pressing his face to the bars. "Say! Gus! Come here a minute."
She returned. She lifted her face, and he kissed her through the bars. And she went away, with sobs that racked her whole form.