"Yes, I know. You think this is another case of schoolboy heroics, like the last fuss I told you I had with him--"
"I wish you would n't tell me."
"I 've got to tell somebody. Come, Jane--you 've grown to seem like the best friend I have--don't turn the cold shoulder on me just when I need you. You know what my mother and sister are like----"
With a gesture of disapproval Jane turned away to her work.
Forrest watched her for a moment in silence; then he began again:
"All right, I won't complain if you 'll just let me tell you about this last scrape. There 's nobody else I can talk to--you know enough about us to know that."
"There ought to be. Your brother----"
"Oh, Murray! With all respect to him--since you insist on respect--he 's not off the same piece of cloth with me, and can't understand me any more than I can him. His blood is n't good red blood at all; it's white, I think, and I----"
Jane rose up from her knees and stood above her visitor, determination on her frank face.
"Forrest Townsend," said she, "if you can talk to me without running down your family, I 'll listen, but not otherwise. I don't think you ought to tell me your affairs at all, but if you 're sure I can be of use I 'll hear them, on that one condition."