"No. Marcia wouldn't tell me. She only laughed at me, but I really wanted to know. She was a nice girl, Roger, and I'd hate to have her shown in a false light. Not that Marcia would do that, of course, but girls are queer. I think she really resented our acquaintance. I can't imagine why."
"Nor I," I said shortly. "She doesn't own you, does she?"
He looked up at me with a blank expression.
"No, I suppose not," he said slowly.
I followed up my advantage swiftly.
"It's rather curious, Jerry, this attraction Miss Van Wyck has for you. A moment ago you were chivalrous enough in your hope that Una's identity would not be discovered. Was this chivalry genuine? Were you sorry on Una's account or on your own? I really want to know. You liked Una, Jerry. Didn't you?"
"Yes, but—"
"She seemed a very interesting, a fine, even a noble creature. The thought of a girl doing the sort of things she was doing made you reproach yourself for your idleness—your cowardice, I think you called it. Now what I'd like to discover is whether you've quite forgotten the impression she made—the ideal she left in your mind?"
"Of course not. My ideals are still the same. I've tried to tell you that I'm going to put them into practice," he muttered.
"You've forgotten the impression made by Una herself; what reason have you for believing that you won't forget the ideals also?"