She turned away, plainly disconcerted. “I don’t like to talk about myself.”
“You don’t remember some of the things you said to me that night.”
“What?” she asked steadily.
“The time we passed the child leading the drunkard, and you said it brought back memories.”
“I didn’t think you remembered,” she said slowly.
“And at Costello’s—Costello’s greeting you.”
“What is there in that?” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Why, nothing, of course, except—well, I don’t like to think of your being out with other men—I suppose that’s it.” She opened her eyes in such astonishment that he added point blank: “No; I don’t like the thought—just jealousy, that’s all.”
She drew back and her face flushed red, but before he could go further, Tootles came down the hall.