"There's no danger of that. She merely opened my eyes. Anyone else could have done the same thing."
"Ah! Has Miss Van Wyck done so?"
"Yes. She's very charitable. But she doesn't make a business of it like Una. She has so many interests and then—" He paused. I waited.
"Roger," he went on in a moment, "I thought Una wonderful. I still do. But Marcia's different. Una was a chance visitor. Marcia is a friend—an old friend. She's like no other woman in the world. You will understand her better some day."
"Perhaps," I said thoughtfully. After that Jerry would say no more. Perhaps he thought he had already said too much, for presently he took himself off to bed. At the foot of the stairs he paused.
"By the way, Roger, we'll be five instead of four for dinner tomorrow."
"Who now?"
"A friend of Marcia's, Channing Lloyd, a chap from town. He came up today."
That admission cost Jerry something, and it explained many things, for I had heard of Channing Lloyd.
"Ah, very well," I said carelessly and shook out my paper.