"He has been her friend; there are some who say her lover."
He stared fixedly at her, as though she had struck him a stinging, unexpected blow.
"Him? A-an' you s-s-say she 's on the squar?"
"Yes; I say she is on the square, because I think so. It's a hard life she 's had to live, and no one has any right to judge her by strict rules of propriety. I may not approve, neither do I condemn. Good women have been deceived before now—have innocently done wrong in the eyes of the world—and this Mercedes is a woman. I know him also, know him to be a cold-blooded, heartless brute. She is merely a girl, pulsating with the fiery blood of the South, an artist to her fingers' tips, wayward and reckless. It would not be very difficult for one of that nature to be led astray by such a consummate deceiver as he is. I pity her, but I do not reproach. Yet God have mercy on him when she awakes from her dream, for that time is surely coming, perhaps is here already; and the girl is on the square. I believe it, she is on the square."
For a silent, breathless moment Brown did not stir, did not once take his eyes from off her face. She saw his hand slip down and close hard over the butt of his dangling revolver. Then he drew a deep breath, his head thrown back, his great shoulders squared.
"D-damn, but that helps me," he said soberly. "It—it sure does. G-good-night, little g-girl."
"Are you going to leave me now?"
"Why, sure. Th-this yere is the h-h-hotel, ain 't it? W-well, I 've got t-to be back to th-the 'Little Yankee' afore d-d-daylight, or thar 'll be h-hell to pay, an' I sure m-mean to see her first, an'—an'—maybe h-him."
She stood there in thoughtful perplexity, oblivious to all else in her strange surroundings, watching the dark shadow of his burly figure disappear through the dim light. There was a strength of purpose, a grim, unchangeable earnestness about the man which impressed her greatly, which won her admiration. He was like some great faithful dog, ready to die at his master's bidding. Down in her heart she wondered what would be the tragic end of this night's confidence.
"There goes a good friend," she said slowly, under her breath, "and a bad enemy." Then she turned away, aroused to her own insistent mission of warning, and entered the silent hotel.