He rose and pushed back his chair. The waiter had brought the bottle with surprising alacrity, and Shepard poured out a glass for the young girl. Bobbie stood fumbling with his change as an excuse to watch. Lorna was engrossed in the bubbling foam of the beer and did not notice him.
"I guess he's afraid to do it now," thought Bobbie, as he failed to observe any suspicious move.
True, Shepard's hand passed swiftly over the glass as he handed it to the girl.
She drank it at his urging, and then suddenly her head sank forward on her breast.
Bobbie stifled his indignation with difficulty as Shepard gave an exclamation of surprise.
"My wife! She is sick! She has fainted!" cried Shepard to Burke's amazement. The man acted his part cunningly.
He had sprung to his feet as he rushed around the table to catch the toppling girl. With a quick jump to her side Bobbie had caught her by an arm, but Shepard indignantly pushed him aside.
"How dare you, sir?" he exclaimed. "Take your hands off my wife."
The man's bravado was splendid, and even the diners were impressed. Most of them laughed, for to them it was only another drunken woman, a familiar and excruciatingly funny object to most of them.
"Aw, let the goil alone," cried one red-faced man who sat with a small, heavily rouged girl of about sixteen. "Don't come between man and wife!" And he laughed with coarse appreciation of his own humor.