But in his soul he was really not so much disturbed over the fact that she visited a police court as he was over her discovery of Bill Marshall as a prisoner at the bar, although he was not at the time capable of analyzing his emotions very accurately. He was ashamed, confused, angry at the presence of Mary Wayne, whereas but a moment before he was enjoying the relish of an adventure and a joke.
"Shall I get a taxi, sir?" inquired Pete.
"I'll get it myself. Wait here, Miss Norcross."
Anything to escape even for a moment from the level gaze of those accusing eyes. He dashed down a staircase, followed by Pete, who had a word he wished to say in private.
Mary now observed that the young man with the tin ear whom she had heard addressed as "Kid" was watching her attentively. As her look settled upon him he stepped forward, swiftly tipped a derby, swiftly replaced it on his head and favored her with a confident and confidential smile.
"Friend of Bill's, it seems," he observed. "Well, we had a nice evenin' for it."
"I do not seem to know you," said Mary.
He stared in honest astonishment.
"Y' don't know me?" he echoed.