But Hero had withdrawn her hand from his arm. “Oh, the poor creature!” she exclaimed pitifully, and ran down the remainder of the steps to the distracted girl.
“Now we are in the basket!” muttered Sherry. “Good God, Gil, what’s to be done? What a damned thing!”
“Think I’ll be going home, Sherry, dear old boy,” said Ferdy in a very cowardly manner. “Won’t be needing me!”
“No, Ferdy!” said Mr Ringwood firmly. “Can’t rat on Sherry. Devilish awkward situation!”
“You know what, Gil?” Ferdy confided in his ear. “Always said the fellow was a commoner! Proves it!”
“Well, I don’t like him: never did: but dash it, I’m deuced sorry for any fellow in a fix like this!” responded Mr Ringwood frankly.
“Yes, by God!” agreed Ferdy, struck most forcibly by this point of view.
Hero, meanwhile, had put her arm round the stranger. “Oh, pray do not — ! There, let me cover up the dear little baby! Don’t cry! Only tell me what it is, and indeed I will help you!”
“Kitten! No, really, Kitten! Dash it, you can’t — Not our affair!” expostulated Sherry.
For once she paid no heed to him; the girl was speaking in a panting voice. “Ask him if he dare deny his own child! Ask him if he did not promise me marriage! Ask him if I was not an honest maid when he saw me first? O God, what is to become of me?”