gazed long at his book, swallowed, and said weakly: —
‘I’m in trouble, Humphrey.’
‘Oh, come, not so bad as all – ’
He was silenced by the sudden plaintive appeal on Henry’s face. Mr Boice, a huge-slow-moving figure of a man with great white whiskers, was coming in from the press room.
They walked down to the little place by the tracks. Humphrey had a roast-beef sandwich and coffee; Henry gloomily devoured two cream puffs.
There Humphrey drew out something of the story. It was difficult at first. Henry could babble forth his most sacred inner feelings with an ingenuous volubility that would alarm a naturally reticent man, and he could be bafflingly secretive. To-night he was both, and neither. He was full of odd little spiritual turnings and twistings – vague as to the clock, intent on justifying himself, submerged in a boundless bottomless sea of self-pity. Humphrey, touched, even worried, finally went at him with direct questions, and managed to piece out the incident of the Thursday morning in the boy’s room.
‘But I never asked her in,’ he hurried to explain. ‘She came in. Maybe after that it was my fault, but I didn’t ask her in.’
‘But as far as I can see, Hen, it wasn’t so serious. You didn’t make love to her.’
‘I tried to.’
‘Oh yes. She doubtless expected that. But she got away.’
‘But don’t you see, Hump, Mrs MacPherson saw her coming out. She’d been snooping. Musta heard some of it. That’s why Mamie hung around for me yesterday noon.’
‘Oh, she hung around?’
Henry swallowed, and nodded. ‘That’s why I slipped out again after lunch yesterday. I didn’t want to tell you.’
‘Naturally. A man’s little flirtations – ’
‘But wait, Hump! She was excited about it. And she seemed to think it was up to me, somehow. I couldn’t get rid of her.’
‘Well, of course – ’
‘She made me promise to see her last night – ’
‘But – wait a minute! – last night – ’
‘This was the first part of the evening. She made me promise to rent Murphy’s tandem – ’
‘Hm! you were going it!’
‘And we rode up the shore a ways.’
‘Then you didn’t hear all of the musicale?’
‘No. She wanted to go up to Hoffmann’s Garden. So we went there – ’
‘But good lord, that’s six miles – ’
‘Eight. You can do it pretty fast with a tandem. The place was jammed. I felt just sick about it. The waiter made us walk clear through, past all the tables. I coulda died. You see, Mamie, she – but I had to be a sport, sorta.’
‘Oh, you had to go through with it, of course.’
‘Sure! I had to. It was awful.’
‘Anybody there that knew you?’
Henry’s colour rose and rose. He gazed down intently at the remnant of a cream puff; pushed it about with his fork. Then his lips formed the word, ‘Yes.’
Humphrey considered the problem. ‘Well,’ he finally observed, ‘after all, what’s the harm? It may embarrass you a little. But most fellows pick up a girl now and then. It isn’t going to kill anybody.’
‘Yes, but’ – Henry’s emotions seemed to be all in his throat to-night; he swallowed – ‘but it – well, Martha was there.’
‘Oh – Martha Caldwell?’
‘Yes. And Mary Ames and her mother. They were with Mr Merchant’s party.’
‘James B., Junior?’
‘Yes. They drove up in a trap. I saw it outside. We weren’t but three tables away from them. They saw everything. Mamie, she – ’
‘After all, Hen. It’s disturbing and all that, but you were getting pretty tired of Martha – ’
‘It isn’t that, Hump 1 I don’t know that I was. I get mixed. But it’s the shame, the disgrace. The Ameses have been down on me anyway, for something that happened two years ago. And now…! And Martha, she’s – well, can’t you see, Hump? It’s just as if there’s no use of my trying to stay in this town any longer. They’ll all be down on me now. They’ll whisper about me. They’re doing it now. I feel it when I walk up Simpson Street. They’re going to mark me for that kind of fellow, and I’m not.’
His face sank into his hands.
Humphrey considered him; said, ‘Of course you’re not;’ considered him further. Then he said, reflectively: ‘It’s unpleasant, of course, but I’ll confess I can’t see that what you’ve told me justifies the words “shame” and “disgrace.” They’re strong words, my boy. And as for leaving town… See here, Hen | Is there anything you haven’t told me?’
The bowed head inclined a little farther.
‘Hadn’t you better tell me? Did anything happen afterward? Has the girl got – well, a real hold on you?’ The head moved slowly sidewise. ‘We fought afterward, all the way home. Rowed. Jawed at each other like a pair of little muckers. No, it isn’t that. I hated her all the time. I told her I was through with her. She tried to catch me in the hall this morning, up on the third floor. Came sneaking to my room again. With towels. That’s why I wrote in the library.’
‘But you aren’t telling me what the rest of it was.’
‘She – oh, she drank beer, and – ’
‘That’s what most everybody does at Hoffmann’s. The beer’s good there.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t like the stuff.’
‘Come, Hen, tell me. Or drop it. Either.’
‘I’ll tell you. But I get so mad. It’s – she – well, she wore pants.’
Humphrey’s sympathy and interest were real, and he did not smile as he queried: ‘Bloomers?’
‘No, pants. Britches. I never saw anything so tight. Nothing else like ‘em in the whole place. People nudged each other and laughed and said things, right out loud. Hump, it was terrible. And we walked clear through – past hundreds of tables – and away over in the corner – and there were the Ameses, and Martha, and – ’
His head was up now; there was fire in his eyes; his voice trembled with the passion of a profound moral indignation.
‘Hump, she’s tough. She rides with that crowd from Pennyweather Point. She smokes cigarettes. She – she leads a double life.’
And neither did it occur to Humphrey, looking at the blazing youth before him, to smile at that last remark.
