“If I did that, then I’d never know what the trouble is all about,” he explained.
“Well, what of it?”
“May I sit down?”
There was an empty chair next to her.
“I can’t prevent you, but I’ve told you I want to be alone.”
“When you look that way, you’re just as much alone as if I weren’t here,” he returned, as he took the chair. “And every one knows it.”
She gave a swift glance about the room, as if expecting to find half the crowd looking at her.
“Maybe they are too polite to let on,” he continued; “but I know just what they are 95 saying to themselves. They are saying, ‘She certainly hasn’t much use for him. You’d think he’d take the tip and get out.’”
“You don’t seem to care much, then, about what they say.”
“I don’t care a hang,” he admitted.