“You will be my friend, won’t you? You won’t go back on me, will you?” She could scarcely have begged for her life with more earnestness.
“I am very fond of you,” Mrs. Toomey evaded. She did not look at her.
Kate regarded her steadily. Laying down the hand she had taken she asked quietly:
“Will you tell me something truthfully, Mrs. Toomey?”
Mrs. Toomey’s mind, ratlike, scuttled hither and thither, wondering what was coming.
“If I can,” uneasily.
Kate laid her hand upon the older woman’s shoulder and searched her face:
“Is my friendship an embarrassment to you?”
Mrs. Toomey squirmed.
“Tell me! The truth! You owe that to me!” Kate cried fiercely, her grip tightening on the woman’s shoulder.