She actually blushed, for, like most women who are compelled to make up professionally, never an atom of grease or rouge was on her face at other times. “David,” she said, “you are a nice boy. I wish you were my brother.”
“You would be fine and dandy as a sister.”
“Well, let’s be friends. And the first sign of friendship is a common alliance. I’ve taken your side against Strauss.”
“What of him?” demanded David, warily; for Miss Ermyn was a slippery customer, he fancied.
“Now, no fencing, or the alliance is off. You were down at Rigsworth yesterday, remember, and you came back in a mighty temper. Not even your pretty Violet was all perfection last evening, was she?”
“Things did go wrong, I admit,” said he, marveling at this attack.
“Well, I am not here to pump you, or else I would surprise you a bit more. No, David, I’m here just because I’m a woman, and as full of mischief as an egg is full of meat; so that I can’t help interfering in a love affair, though it isn’t my own. Did you know that Strauss brought Jenny to Rigsworth yesterday?”
“Jenny? Why Jenny?”
“That is what I wanted to know. And she wouldn’t tell me, the cat, until I got my Irish up and offered to drag her over the furniture by the hair of her head. And it was no use her lying to me, either. Every time she tried to think of a plausible tale I told her it would hurt to cross the chiffonier head first. At last she owned up, and then I opened a small bottle—she wanted it, I assure you—and I got the whole story while we finished it.”