“Child—don’t you know? he’s crazy about her....”
“Oh....”
“Didn’t you know? Why else do you suppose he’s so precious backward with us? Hang it, Deb, we’re not exactly unattractive. The chances he’s had.... Another man would have worn my throat away with his lips at it, before now!” Jenny clenched her hands passionately. “Deb, haven’t you noticed that he’s never kissed either of us?”
“Yes. I had noticed.”
“He told me the whole story, mooching about the streets in a fog one night. He had fooled about with some chit, not caring for her a tuppenny curse—as he might have fooled with us. Someone told his wife; and she just gave him notice to quit—‘I’ll send for you when I can bear the sight of you again!’ ... that was four years ago. God! she must be made of ice. With a war on, too. Can’t she guess that the man wants looking after; and that if her fingers don’t sew his buttons on, someone else will volunteer for the job. Not that I’ve had much from him, except thanks, for trying to buck him up and brush him up ... a more dejected-looking object I’ve never seen than when he first slouched in here. Thanks? oh yes, he thanked me then, in the fog, for having listened to his drivellings; as if I could have helped myself, with his hand grabbing my elbow; I was bored stiff. That was before you came in with us, kid.”
“I’ll drop out again.... You’re married, Jenny, and so is he, and you can fit each other with what’s left over. But I want something whole——”
“Yes; you’ve got everything to give. But you and I might just as well go on being pals, darling,—he doesn’t care a rap for either of us. And he’d be terrified of me without you, Deb; or of you without me. I’ve never struck such a Cautious Willy. When he’s left alone with one of us he goes to fetch his pipe—till the other comes back. I tell you, it works up all the devil in me....”
“And in me....”
“Deb, he’s a real man, or I shouldn’t care like this. He’s been perfectly sweet to me once or twice. Perfectly ... dear. He can be, when he likes. Have you ever felt the muscles of his arm? ever bent it back? like iron. Deb—I’m sure he’s sworn some gimcrack oath to himself, not to ever let it reach a kiss—with us, I mean.”
“Because of her.”