, stupid suspicions.... Jenny fidgeted in her chair and eyed Pa
with a sort of vicarious hostility. Why, even that old man was a
complication! Nay, he was the worst thing of all! But for him, she
_could_ drop out! There was no getting away from him! He was as much
permanently there as the chair upon which he was drowsing. She saw him
as an incubus. And then Emmy being so fussy! Standing on her dignity
when she'd give her soul for happiness! And then Alf being so ... What
was Alf? Well, Alf was stupid. That was the word for Alf. He was stupid.
As stupid as any stupid member of his immeasurably stupid sex could be!

"Great booby!" muttered Jenny. Why, look at the way he had behaved when
Emmy had come into the room. It wasn't honesty, mind you; because he
could tell any old lie when he wanted to. It was just funk. He hadn't
known where to look, or what to say. Too slow, he was, to think of
anything. What could you do with a man like that? Oh, what stupids men
were! She expected that Alf would feel very fine and noble as he walked
old Em along to the theatre--and afterwards, when the evening was over
and he had gone off in a cloud of glory. He would think it all over and
come solemnly to the conclusion that the reason for his mumbling
stupidity, his toeing and heeling, and all that idiotic speechlessness
that set Emmy on her hind legs, was sheer love of the truth. He couldn't
tell a lie--to a woman. That would be it. He would pretend that Jenny
had chivvied him into taking Em, that he was too noble to refuse to take
Em, or to let Em really see point-blank that he didn't want to take her;
but when it came to the pinch he hadn't been able to screw himself into
the truly noble attitude needed for such an act of self-sacrifice. He
had been speechless when a prompt lie, added to the promptitude and
exactitude of Jenny's lie, would have saved the situation. Not Alf!

"I cannot tell a lie," sneered Jenny. "To a woman. George Washington. I
_don't_ think!"

Yes; but then, said her secret complacency, preening itself, and
suggesting that possibly a moment or two of satisfied pity might be at
this point in place, he'd really wanted to take Jenny. He had taken the
tickets because he had wanted to be in Jenny's company for the evening.
Not Emmy's. There was all the difference. If you wanted a cream bun and
got fobbed off with a scone! There was something in that. Jenny was
rather flattered by her happy figure. She even excitedly giggle