My appeal had reached her, for I think she realized how seldom such a person as I could be moved to emotion.
"But I—how can I help?" she asked.
"Will you listen and not think me visionary? Jerry cares for you. To him you have made a different appeal from that of any other woman in the world. You were the first. You stirred him. You may not be aware. In his mind you stand for everything that is clean and noble. In his heart, I know—I have not studied Jerry all these years for nothing—he has a shrine there—for you, Miss Habberton. You will always be Una, the first. I hope you will forgive me and believe me. It is necessary that you should."
She smiled at me gently.
"You are very much in earnest, Mr. Canby. I can forgive much to one of your sincerity. But doesn't it seem to you a curious conversation?"
"I had hoped you cared enough—"
"And if I did, do you think anything would give you the right to come to me without Mr. Benham's permission and speak of—"
"You must let me finish," I demanded. "You are kind, charitable. Trying to save people from themselves is your life work. I merely bring you a soul to save, a friend in danger. Can you refuse, refuse him? Jerry is drinking. It has not been for long, but he is in trouble. He has gotten beyond his depth—a woman—Oh, don't misunderstand me! It is mental, a strange attraction, weird, Jerry doesn't understand at all. He's bewitched, but she is slowly brutalizing him, his mind I mean. Don't you understand?"
"Yes, I think so," she muttered. "It is not a new situation. But I—no friend, man or girl, could avail in a case like that." She paused a moment clasping and unclasping her hands. I waited.
"Who is this—this woman?" she blurted out at last.