"Jean! Jean!" He came to her in distress.
"It was a drinking-place, and the girl with me had drunk too much. We amused your sister's theater-party immensely. They were probably slumming—seeing low life!"
He drew a calmer account from her presently.
"I know the place," he said. "It had rather a vogue before people found out that it was only sham-German, after all. It's a perfectly respectable rathskeller. You went with some gentleman, of course?"
Jean's passion for confession flagged.
"With a friend of Amy's from the boarding-house," she answered briefly.
Atwood gave a relieved laugh.
"You have made a mountain of a mole-hill," he told her; "but I'm glad you mentioned the circumstances. I'll explain to Julie, if she ever thinks of it again. Don't misjudge her, Jean. I admit she's unsympathetic at first sight, even brusque; but there's another side, believe me. You saw how devoted she is to my interests."
She had indeed seen, and the knowledge rankled.
"You should not have introduced me, made me share your talk," she said. "You meant a kindness, but it was no kindness; it was a humiliation, a—" Then the tension snapped and her head went down between her arms.