"He's Kitty's boy." The big man fronted her as if for a feat of persuasion.
"Don't, Fred! I've just weathered that point. I was weak, but Randall—Randall saved me. He's dreadful, Fred, unnatural, impossible—oh, terribly impossible!" She faced him dauntlessly, her cheeks glowing with faint spots of color.
"I liked him, Kitty. He seems——"
"You're a physician, accustomed to monstrosities. He's something we don't speak of, my friend. And see—you must see—what he would suffer if he knew."
CHAPTER XVI
TEEVAN AS SPECIAL PROVIDENCE
EWING was delighted by an invitation from the little man to dine. They had reached the avenue after walking in silence through a side street. Such moments were rare with Teevan. Not often did he fail of speech, even in his periods of calculation. But this was a moment requiring nice adjustments. The suggestion about dinner came as they paused at the corner.
"If you'd like to have me I'd be mighty glad," responded Ewing.
They turned toward Ninth Street, and Ewing told of his hour at Mrs. Lowndes', scarce conscious of Teevan's questioning, for the little man probed with an air of discreet condolence that would have won a far more reticent talker. Ewing was gratified by this attention from a man who knew the world of cities, and whose mind must usually be occupied with affairs of importance. He felt himself drawn to Teevan by bonds of sympathy that tightened momentarily.
"My dear mother-in-law is a sentimental thing," the little man confessed with a delicate intimation of apology. "She makes any sad tale her own. The theater affects her, the woes of stage creatures, quite as you tell me your own very human little story did. My arrival must have saved you from one of her rather absurd manifestations. She's a dear old soul, with quantities of temperament, but she recovers with amazing facility, I'm bound to say. If you met her to-morrow she'd likely freeze you with a nod."