“It's all right—Cherry—” Marilyn breathed softly, “It's all right—I understand! Don't think any more about it!”
The eyes opened fiercely again, a faint determination shadowed round the little mouth:
“You gotta know—!” she broke forth again with effort. “He was good to me—when I was a little kid, and when he found I was in trouble—” the breath came pitifully in gasps—“he—offered—to—marry me!”
Marilyn's fingers trembled but she held the little cold hand warmly and tried to keep back the tears that trembled in her eyes.
“He—didn't—want to—! He—just—done it to be kind! But I—couldn't—see—it—! That's—what—we—argued—!” Her voice grew fainter again. Marilyn with gentle controlled voice pressed the little cold hand again:
“Never mind, Cherry dear—it's all right!”
Cherry's eyes opened with renewed effort, anxiously:
“You won't—blame—Mark—? He never—did—nothin'—wrong—! He's—your—friend!”
“No, Cherry! It's all right!”
The girl seemed to have lost consciousness again, and Marilyn wondered if she ought not to call the doctor, but suddenly Cherry screamed out: