He led the way to the southern part of the city, where they were not known, and up to the door of an old lady whose parlor clock had been recently purchased from the instalment firm by whom he was now employed. She was not well off, he knew, and had a room to rent.
“Is that room of yours still vacant?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, looking at Jennie.
“I wish you’d let my sister have it. We’re moving away, and she can’t go yet.”
The old lady expressed her willingness, and Jennie was soon temporarily installed.
“Don’t worry now,” said Bass, who felt rather sorry for her. “This’ll blow over. Ma said I should tell you not to worry. Come up to-morrow when he’s gone.”
Jennie said she would, and, after giving her further oral encouragement, he arranged with the old lady about board, and took his leave.
“It’s all right now,” he said encouragingly as he went out. “You’ll come out all right. Don’t worry. I’ve got to go back, but I’ll come around in the morning.”
He went away, and the bitter stress of it blew lightly over his head, for he was thinking that Jennie had made a mistake. This was shown by the manner in which he had asked her questions as they had walked together, and that in the face of her sad and doubtful mood.
“What’d you want to do that for?” and “Didn’t you ever think what you were doing?” he persisted.