“I am referring to that low-lived vagrant we met on the road—that iceman—that—well, I don't know what he is except that the devil seems to be kicking him under my feet to trip me. Kate, Kate, it's too ridiculous to talk about—that wretch!”
“Do you mean by that remark that I am taking any interest in that young man outside of mere curiosity?”
“I don't know why you should have any curiosity about a tramp.”
“You are not a good student of physiognomy, Richard.”
“So you have been studying him, have you? You went away with him and left me. What did he say to you? Where did he leave you? I haven't dared to think about your going away with him. I excused it because you were angry—so angry you'd even pick up a tramp for an escort. But what interest do you take in that renegade?” His tones were acrid with jealousy.
“I did not find him a renegade. I found him a mystery, Richard. And I hope that some day I will know what the mystery is.”
“Are you trying to drive me mad?”
“I am merely chatting along in order to keep you off a topic which is distressing. I heard that your uncle intended to have the man investigated after he came into the office here and made that brave stand. I happened to hear the talk the young man made. Perhaps that accounts for my curiosity. Did your uncle find out much about the man?”
“I don't know what he found out,” declared Dodd, rapidly losing control of himself. “But I propose to find out for myself.”
“Please do, Richard,” said the girl, ingenuously and earnestly. She seemed to be losing some of the hauteur she had shown at the first of their meeting.