“Stephen!” she exclaimed. “You can’t—you don’t mean to say that you know—any of these?”
She was trembling in every limb. He tried to pass his arm through hers.
“Don’t be a fool, Letty,” he said. “It’s time we went, or my friends will have gone to bed.”
She looked at him with wide-open eyes. Her lips were quivering. It was as though she saw some new thing in his face.
“Your friends,” she murmured, “are they—that sort? Oh! I am afraid.”
She clung to Macheson. People were beginning to notice them. He led her out into the street. Hurd followed, angrily protesting. Holderness was close behind.
“I say, you know,” Hurd began, with his arm on Macheson’s shoulder. Macheson shook it off.
“Mr. Hurd,” he said, “at the risk of seeming impertinent, I must ask you precisely where you intend taking this girl to-night?”
“What the devil business is it of yours?” Hurd answered angrily.