With an amused shrug of her shoulders, the girl complied, seating herself leisurely and comfortably, as if she were far from being in a hurry to depart, and glanced up at him with a look charming and demure enough to have driven away the frown which still lingered on his brow. And then, as she made no move to speak, he broke the silence.
“How on earth,” he asked, “did you get here?”
She smiled back at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Bribery,” she answered. “The maid at the door said it was as much as her place was worth. I told her it was a matter of great importance—I really did it rather well, I think—and then I told her that no one would ever know and—persuaded her. And here I am.”
“So I perceive,” he observed dryly, and then, more gravely, “And now what is it, Jeanne? Be quick, please. It must be close to midnight. If any one found you here—”
The girl laughed, low and mockingly. “Why, Jack,” she said, “how awfully moral we’ve grown. You never used to be so particular about appearances. Don’t you remember—”
He held up a silencing hand. “I remember a great many things, Jeanne. We had our good times, and we enjoyed them, too. But they’re all gone by for me, my dear. If you dance, you’ve got to pay the piper. That’s the truest thing that ever was said. And I’m paying him now. You heard all about the smash, of course. And you know that I’m a poor man. My sporting days are over, for good and all.”
The girl nodded. For the first time, the smile had left her face, and her tone, when she spoke, was as grave as his own. “I know all about it, Jack,” she said, “it isn’t the money I care about. I thought it was—once—but it wasn’t; it was you. And you haven’t sent me word now for so long. And I wrote you, and you never answered. And then—I was lonesome, and so—I came.”
He looked back at her steadily. “I didn’t put things quite right, Jeanne,” he said, “I didn’t mean that it was wholly because I didn’t have money any more. That is part of it, I guess, but there’s more to it than just that. I’m sorry for a lot of foolish things I’ve done, and I mean to quit them.”
She raised her eyebrows at the words, and a new expression came over her face. “Oh,” she said. “I see. So going around with me was foolish, was it? That’s strange. You didn’t seem to think so, when you were doing it, Jack.”
If she had expected to hear him withdraw his words, she was disappointed. “You don’t understand me, Jeanne,” he said, “there was no question about my enjoying it. I didn’t mean that. I enjoyed it too much—that was all. But that doesn’t alter the fact that it was foolishness for both of us. It was all my fault. It was only because I got used to seeing you around the place, out at The Birches, and you were so pretty, and so nice, that I wasn’t strong enough to resist temptation. And we had some great old times together. Don’t think I’ve turned preacher all at once, because I haven’t. We had some bully times, and I shall always remember them. But I was injuring you, Jeanne, and I was injuring myself, too. We were going ahead with something that could turn out only one way—we were playing the devil’s pet game. And I thank God we pulled up in time.”