"Drink?" she asked tersely.
"I've quit that more or less," he assured her. "Still, I have been taking some these last few days. Finding Katharine over here with Jocelyn Thew hanging around gave me kind of a shock."
"You weren't best pleased to see them together, I should think, were you?"
"No," he admitted, a little sullenly.
"You're angry with him, aren't you?"
"Kind of," he confessed. "I wouldn't have complained at anything he'd asked me to do, but it was a low-down trick to get Katharine into this trouble." His eyes shone out with a dull anger. She watched him curiously.
"Dick, you're not the boy you were," she sighed. "Guess you're sorry you ever came to that supper party at the Knickerbocker, aren't you?"
He turned and looked at her. He was only twenty-two years old, but there were things in his face from which a man might have shrunk.
"Yes, I am sorry," he confessed. "I am not blaming anybody but I shall be sorry all my life."
"Jocelyn Thew treated you very much as he did me," she went on. "He carried you off your feet. You thought him the most wonderful thing that ever lived. It was the same with me. He has never given as much of himself as his little finger, never even looked at me as though I were a human being, but I'd have scrubbed floors for him a month after we first met. It was just the same with you, only you were a man. You'd have committed murder for his sake, a week after that party."