He caught him firmly by the arm, but Harry still leaned against the wall, muttering vaguely.
"A civil tongue—me? You—you dare ask me?"
"Yes," said Jim gently, "I've been trying to find you."
"Where?" leered Harry, "in my wife's studio?"
Jim Horton turned suddenly furious, but shocked into silence and inertia by the terrible significance of the suspicion. But he pulled himself together with an effort.
"Come," he said quietly. "Let's get away from here."
He felt Harry yield to the pressure of his fingers and slowly they moved into the shadows down the street away from the gas lamps. A moment later Harry was twitching at his arm.
"G-get me something to cat. I—I'm hungry," he gasped.
"Hungry! How long——?"
"Since yesterday morning—a crust of bread——"