Then Juliet, very quiet of mien and level of brow, got up and went to Dick who had risen at the departure of the visitor. She put her hand through his arm and held it closely.
"You are not to be unkind to my friends, Richard," she said. "It is the one thing I can't allow."
He looked at her with some sternness, but his free hand closed at once upon hers. "I hate to think of you on terms of intimacy with that bounder," he said.
She smiled a little. "I know you do. But you are prejudiced. I can't give up an old friend—even for you, Dick."
He squeezed her hand. "Have you got many friends like that, Juliet?"
She flushed. "No. He is the only one I have, and—"
"And?" he said, as she stopped.
She laid her cheek with a very loving gesture against his shoulder. "Ah, don't throw stones!" she pleaded gently. "There are so few of us without sin."
His arm was about her in a moment, all his hardness vanished. "My own girl!" he said.
She held his hand in both her own. "Do you know—sometimes—I lie awake at night and wonder—and wonder—whether you would have thought of me—if you had known me in the old days?"