"Yes; to find work. Why do you stare as if I'd said Timbuctoo?"
"I'm from New York."
"Are you?" She brightened wonderfully. "Then you can tell me where to find work. I'm willing to do anything at the start, but by and by I want to get into some good business. Women are succeeding in business on all sides nowadays. Why do you look so hopeless? Don't you think I can get on?"
"How can I answer you! If there were only some woman to whom I might take you. I've a sister, but—"
"But she wouldn't understand?"
"No, she wouldn't understand. Neither do you understand," he went on anxiously. "To be a stranger in New York, homeless, friendless, without work, the shadow of that place over there dogging your steps; with you what you are—trustful, unsuspicious, open as sunlight—Oh, I daren't advise you. I don't dare."
Jean was awed, but not downcast.
"I'll risk it," she replied stoutly.
Twice he opened his lips to speak, but rose instead and paced among the trees. Finally he confronted her.
"Why not go back?" he asked.