"Excuse me!" he said; and in explanation of his sudden mirth, he added: "The idea of your trotting out Marsh to me!"
"I'm not trotting him out to you,—as you call it," Evelyn said quietly, but her small foot tapped the floor. She intended presently to rid herself of Gilmore for all time.
"Yes, but I was afraid you were going to."
"You mustn't speak to me as you do; I have done nothing to give you the privilege."
Gilmore did not seem at all abashed at this reproof.
"If you want to go to the trial I'll take you, and I'll agree to make it all right with Marsh afterward; what do you say?" he asked.
Evelyn smiled brightly, but she did not explain to him the utter impossibility of their appearing in public together either at the North trial or anywhere else for the matter of that; there were bounds set even to her reckless disregard of what Mount Hope held to be right and proper.
"Oh, no, you're very kind, but I don't think I should care to see poor Jack now."
She gave a little shiver of horror as if at the mere idea. This was for the gambler, but her real feeling was far deeper than he, suspicious as he was, could possibly know.
"Why do you 'poor Jack' him to me?" said Gilmore sullenly.