"Did you notice anything—?"
"Oh, I couldn't hear what was said. He was the last in line and he stayed for some time. He said afterward that it was all right. She was very nice to him," said Jinny earnestly, producing every scrap of incident for McLean's judgment. "She showed him some of her presents—something about her neck."
In mid-speech McLean changed a startled "God!" to "Good!"
"She wasn't suspicious, then?" he said weakly.
"Not as far as I could see. Oh, nothing seemed to be wrong. But I did feel uneasy until I got away and then, Jack hasn't come back—"
Again she looked at the young Scotchman for confirmation of her fear and again she saw that careful expressionless calm.
"It's no need for alarm," he told her slowly, "since nothing went wrong. I see no reason why Jack couldn't have walked out of that reception. If we only knew where he was going later—"
"Yes, something might have happened later," Jinny took up. "I thought of that. He might have wanted some more fun and felt more reckless—Oh, I am worried," she confessed, her gray eyes very round and childlike.
And if anything had happened she would always blame herself, thought McLean ironically.... The unthinking deviltry of the young scoundrel!... When he found him he'd have a few things to say!
"That's why I came to you," Jinny went on. "I hesitated, for he had warned me so against telling any one, but no one else knows—"