“If you hadn't been in front of that horrid old restaurant just when I was passing,” she continued, “all this would never have happened. But you were there, and you asked me to come in and have a bite with you; and I did, and there you are.”
“Yes, there I am,” assented Jimmy dismally. There was no doubt about where he was now, but where was he going to end? That was the question. “See here,” he exclaimed with fast growing uneasiness, “I don't like being mixed up in this sort of thing.”
“Of course you'd think of yourself first,” sneered Zoie. “That's just like a man.”
“Well, I don't want to get your husband down on me,” argued Jimmy evasively.
“Oh, I didn't give YOU away,” sneered Zoie. “YOU needn't worry,” and she fixed her eyes upon him with a scornful expression that left no doubt as to her opinion that he was a craven coward.
“But you said he'd 'found out,'” stammered Jimmy.
“He's found out that I ate with a MAN,” answered Zoie, more and more aggrieved at having to employ so much detail in the midst of her distress. “He doesn't know it was you.”
“But Zoie——” protested Jimmy.
She lifted a small hand, begging him to spare her further questions. It was apparent that she must explain each aspect of their present difficulty, with as much patience as though Jimmy were in reality only a child. She sank into her chair and then proceeded, with a martyred air.
“You see it was like this,” she said. “Alfred came into the restaurant just after we had gone out and Henri, the waiter who has taken care of him for years, told him that I had just been in to luncheon with a gentleman.”