He told her gaily that he had found new friends.
"But I haven't forgotten the old ones, Chris, and I'm coming down to see you all some day soon. How's your mother—what's she doing now?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders and the glance she turned upon him seemed to say that she would sooner speak on any other subject.
"What should she be doin'—what's any of us doin' but slave our bones off and break our hearts. You've come to see Lois' father, haven't you? Oh, yes, I know how much you want to talk about my mother. The old man's up there in the shop—I saw him as I came by."
Alban stood an instant irresolute. How much he would have liked to offer some assistance to this poor girl, to speak of real pecuniary help and friendship. But he knew the people too well. The utmost delicacy would be necessary.
"Well," he said, "I'm sorry things are not better, Chris. I've had a good Saturday night, you see, and if I can do anything, don't you mind letting me know. We'll talk of it when we have more time. I'm going on to see Boriskoff now, and I doubt that I'll find him out of bed."
She laughed a little wildly, still turning almost pathetic eyes upon him.
"Is it true that it's all off between you and Lois—all the Court says it is. That's why she went away, they say—is it true, Alb, or are they telling lies? I can't believe it myself. You're not the sort to give a girl over—not one that's stood by you as well as Lois. Tell me it ain't true or I shall think the worse of you."
The question staggered him and he could not instantly answer it. Was it true or false? Did he really love little Lois and had he still an intention to marry her? Alban had never looked the situation straight in the face until this moment.