“But why didn't he tell me?”
“He saw it as a sort of weakness. He meant to when he came back.”
He fought Dick's fight for him valiantly, stressing certain points that were to prepare her for others to come. He plunged, indeed, rather recklessly into the psychology of the situation, and only got out of the unconscious mind with an effort. But behind it all was his overwhelming desire to save her pain.
“You must remember,” he said, “that Dick's life before this happened, and since, are two different things. Whatever he did then should not count against him now.”
“Of course not,” she said. “Then he—had done something?”
“Yes. Something that brought him into conflict with the authorities.”
She did not shrink from that, and he was encouraged to go on.
“He was young then, remember. Only twenty-one or so. And there was a quarrel with another man. The other man was shot.”
“You mean Dick shot him?”
“Yes. You understand, don't you,” he added anxiously, “that he doesn't remember doing it?”