“I am afraid it is my fault,” said Connie.
“Of course it is,” Mrs. Hardacre replied brutally. “The best you can do is to help us to rescue her.”
They started. The brougham was small, the air heavy, their quest distasteful, its result doubtful. The sense of fretfulness became acute. Mrs. Hardacre gave vent to her maternal feelings. When she touched on the vile seducer of her daughter's affections, Connie turned upon her almost shrewishly.
“This is my carriage, and I am not going to hear my dearest friend abused in it.”
Morland sat silent and worried. When they stopped at the house, he said:
“I think I shall stay outside.”
Connie, angry with him for having damned Jimmie, bent forward.
“Are you afraid of facing Jimmie?” she said with a little note of contempt.
“Certainly not,” he replied viciously.
A few moments later Aline ran into the studio with a scared face.