"But y' can't deny meetin' him," he repeated, his hoarse voice quivering; "you don't deny—kissin' him—in a wood! Only deny it, Hermy, only say you didn't, an' I'll choke th' life out of any guy as says you did—only deny it, Hermy."
"But I don't want to deny it. If your spy had ears he can tell you that we are going to be married. Now go."
Once more M'Ginnis reached up to his throat and trenched off the neckerchief altogether.
"Married!" he cried, "an' t' him! He's foolin' ye, Hermy, by God he is! Girl, I'm tellin' ye straight an' true—he'll never marry ye. His kind don't marry Tenth Av'ner girls—Nooport an' Fifth Av'ner's a good ways from Hell's Kitchen an' Tenth Av'ner, an' they can't ever come t'gether, I reckon."
"Ah!" sighed she, falling back a step, "what do you mean?"
"Why, I mean," said M'Ginnis, twisting the neckerchief in his powerful hands much as if it had been the neck of some enemy, "I mean as this guy as comes here bluffin' about bein' down an' out, this guy as plays at sellin' peanuts is—Geoffrey Ravenslee, the millionaire."
"But—he is—Arthur's friend!"
"Friend—nothin'!" said he, wringing and wrenching at the neckerchief, "I guess you ain't found out how th' Kid an' him came t' meet, eh? Well, I'll tell ye—listen! Your brother broke in to this millionaire's swell house—through the winder—an' this millionaire caught him."
"Oh," said she, smiling in bitter scorn, "what a clumsy liar you are, Bud M'Ginnis!"
"No," he cried eagerly, "no, I ain't tellin' ye no lies; it's God's own truth I'm givin' ye."