“No, not altogether,” replied Adam. “I came after Margarita.”
“Came after Margarita?” echoed Guerd, blankly. “Is that her name? Say, Adam, is this one of your goody-goody tricks? Rescuing a damsel in distress sort of thing!... You and I have fallen out more than once over that. I kick—I——”
“Guerd, we’ve fallen out forever,” interrupted Adam, and then he turned to the girl. “Margarita, I want you——”
“But it’s none of your damned business,” burst out Guerd, hotly, interrupting in turn. “What do you care about a Mexican girl? I won’t stand your interference. You clear out and let me alone.”
“But, Guerd—it is my business,” returned Adam, haltingly. Some inward force dragged at his tongue. “She’s—my girl.”
“What!” ejaculated Guerd, incredulously. Then he bent down to peer into Margarita’s face, and from that he swept a flashing, keen glance at Adam. His eyes were wonderful then, intensely bright, quickened and sharpened with swift turns of thought. “Boy, you don’t mean you’re on friendly terms with this greaser girl?”
“Yes,” replied Adam.
“You’ve made love to her!” cried Guerd, and the radiance of his face then was beyond Adam’s understanding.
“Yes.”
Guerd violently controlled what must have been a spasm of fiendish glee. His amaze, deep as it was, seemed not to be his predominant feeling, but that very amaze was something to force exquisitely upon Adam how far he had fallen. The moment was dark, hateful, far-reaching in effect, impossible to realize. Guerd’s glance flashed back and forth from Adam to Margarita. But he had not yet grasped what was the tragic thing for Adam—the truth of how fatefully far this love affair had fallen. Adam’s heart sank like lead in his breast. What humiliation he must suffer if he betrayed himself! Hard he fought for composure and dignity to hide his secret.