The lad fixed her with his cold scorn and then turned on his heel and slipped into an easy position on the bunk.
"Then wait for him to come. He'll be here before morning."
But Mary followed across the room and touched the shoulder of Jack. It was as if she touched a wild wolf, for the lad whirled and struck her hand away in an outburst of silent fury.
"Why shouldn't I stay? He hasn't—he hasn't changed—Jack?"
The insolent black eyes looked up and scanned her slowly from head to foot. Then he laughed in the same deliberate manner. It was to Mary as if her clothes had been torn from her body and she were exposed to the bold eyes of a crowd, like a slave put up for sale.
"No, I guess he thinks as much of you now as he ever did."
"You are lying to me," said the girl faintly, but the terror in her eyes said another thing.
"He thinks as much of you as he ever did. He thinks as much of you as he does of the rest of the soft-handed, pretty-faced fools who listen to him and believe him. I suppose——"
He broke off to laugh heartily again, with a jarring, forced note which escaped Mary.
"I suppose that he made love to you one minute and the next told you that bad luck—something about the cross—kept him away from you?"