“You astonish me!” exclaimed Westgate. “This thing was done in the early evening, under the glare of the electric lamp, in full view of any person who might be passing?”
“Exactly! It was scandalous, Phil. And they weren’t satisfied with doing it once; they repeated it, and then she actually walked the rest of the way across the bridge with his arm around her waist. Barry Malleson, what do you think of that?”
“I don’t know,” replied Barry, uncertainly, “that it has anything to do with me.”
It was apparent, nevertheless, that the news had impressed him profoundly. And to that extent at least Miss Chichester had made her point.
“But you do know,” she persisted, “that a woman who conducts herself so scandalously is not a proper person for you to associate with. Phil will tell you so, won’t you, Phil? He’ll tell you that it’s dangerous. That you’re likely to get caught in the trap of an adventuress.”
Westgate turned soberly to Barry.
“If what Jane tells us is true,” he said, “and I have no particular reason to doubt her word, you’ve been skating on very thin ice, young man, very thin ice.”
“Thank you, Phil!” exclaimed Miss Chichester. “But you must do more than warn him; you must stop him. You’re a lawyer. You can get out an injunction, or a writ of habeas corpus or something, and compel her to keep away from him.”
“Why,” responded Westgate, “I think it’s a question of his keeping away from her. And Barry’s own good sense, and sober judgment, and quick wit, will control him to that extent at least. Won’t it, Barry?”