Miss Tilly, overhearing, drew a step or two nearer. A sudden interest in Mr. Barnes developed. She had not noticed before that he was an uncommonly good-looking fellow. She always had said that she adored strong, "athletic" faces.
"Hence the insult," said Mr. Rushcroft bitterly. He raised both arms in a gesture of complete dejection. "My God!"
"Says it looks suspicious," went on Mr. Bacon, "flocking with us as you do. He mentioned something about birds of a feather."
Mr. Rushcroft arose majestically. "I shall see the man myself, Mr. Barnes. His infernal insolence—"
"Pray do not distress yourself, my dear Rushcroft," interrupted Barnes. "He is quite within his rights. I may be even worse than an actor. I may turn out to be an ordinary tramp." He took a wallet from his pocket, and smiled engagingly upon Miss Tilly. "The check, please."
"For both?" inquired she, blinking.
"Certainly. Mr. Rushcroft was my guest."
"Four twenty five," she announced, after computation on the back of the menu.
He selected a five dollar bill from the rather plethoric purse and handed it to her.
"Be so good as to keep the change," he said, and Miss Tilly went away in a daze from which she did not emerge for a long, long time.