Then he struck his hands together and went to the back hall whose windows looked toward the garage. The lights were burning on the second floor and passing out through the kitchen he ran across the snowy court and up the rough stairway to Joe’s room.
Joe lay sprawled on his narrow iron bed with his face to the wall. The room was lighted by a single electric lamp that hung from the low ceiling. He sat up and rubbed his eyes as Wayne spoke to him.
“What’s the matter, Joe? Are you sick?”
“Well, I wasn’t feeling very well. I guess I got a cold.”
“I came in to speak about your behaviour this afternoon. You were annoying a young woman out there at Rosedale; you must have been following her from the time she left town; she is a friend of my sister’s and I’ve got to explain to both of them just how you came to be frightening a woman in that fashion. What have you to say for yourself?”
Joe threw his legs over the side of the bed and shook himself together. He passed his hands over his face wearily.
“Oh, my God, I don’t know! That’s what I’ve been lying here thinking about ever since I brought you home. I don’t know why I did it. I meant her no harm. She and I were friends together up in the anthracite country where I come from. We went to school together; I’ve known Jean a long time.”
“That doesn’t give you any right to scare her to death. I ought to fire you for this. It puts me in a nice position, having my chauffeur running after one of my sister’s friends. If she should tell Mrs. Blair what you did you’d have to go. My family are not so warm for you, anyhow.”
“Yes; I know that. The Colonel doesn’t like having me round, and I guess you don’t need me; but you don’t have to bounce me; I’ll quit. I guess I’m all in. I’m no good, anyhow.”
His dejection was complete; his tame submission blunted the edge of Wayne’s wrath.