“I had great sympathy for the girl, and from her face I had made many hundreds, so I considered it my duty to look after her in this dark hour of affliction.”
“That was just and noble,” said Cherokee, forgetting for a moment the record of the man.
He went on: “She loved me devotedly, though she knew I was married, and during her illness she fancied she would be perfectly happy if she convinced herself that I was not ashamed to present her to my wife.”
“Then it was your wife she wanted to see, and I was to be presented under false colors,” she demanded, rather sternly.
“It would have been all the same to her, she never would have been wiser.”
“Mr. Frost, I believe you would do anything, and let me say, just here, my courtesy to you is not real. I do it because, strange to say, my husband likes you.”
Just then they reached her stopping place. There was considerable commotion on the car, Frost caught her arm:
“Wait a moment, until they put that drunken brute off.”
Suddenly, Cherokee wrenched herself away, and stepped quickly, unassisted, to the street.
In front of her was the man they had assisted from the car. A gentle arm was passed through his: