n't
understand. D'you see?" He shook Simmy as a dog would have shaken a rat,
not in anger but to emphasise his seriousness.

"By Jove, George,--I'd like to believe that of you," chattered Simmy.

"Well, you can believe it. I'm not ashamed to confess what I'm doing. You
may call me a baby, a fool, a crank or whatever you like,--I don't care.
I've just got to see her, and this is the only way. Do you think I'd spoil
things for her, now that she's made good? Think I'd butt in and queer it
all? I'm no good, I'm a rotter, and I'm going to the devil as fast as I
know how, Simmy. That's my affair, too. But I'm not mean enough to
begrudge her the happiness she's found in spite of all us damned
Tresslyns. Now, run along, Simmy, and don't worry about anything happening
to her,--at least, so far as I'm concerned. She'll probably have her work
cut out defending herself against some of her fine gentlemen, some of the
respectable rotters in there. But she'll manage all right. She's the right
sort, and she's had her lesson already. She won't be fooled again."

Simmy's amazement had given way to concern. "Upon my word, George, I'm
sorry for you. I had no idea that you felt as you do. It's too darned bad.
I wish it could have been different with you two."

"It could have been, as I've said before, if I'd had the back-bone of a
caterpillar."

"If you still love her as deeply as all this, why--"

"Love her? Why, if she were to come out here this instant and smile on me,
Simmy, I'd--I'd--God, I don't know what I'd do!" He drooped his head
dejectedly, and Simmy saw that he was shaking.

"It's too bad," said Simmy again, blinking. For a long time the two of
them stood there, side by side, looking at the bright doorway across the
street. Simmy was thinking hard. "See here, old fellow," he said at last,
profoundly moved, "why don't you buck up and try to make something of
yourself? It isn't too late. Do something that will make her proud of you.
Do--"

"Proud of me, eh?" sneered George. "The only thing I could do would be to
jump into the river with my hands tied. She'd be proud of me for that."

"Nonsense. Now listen to me. You don't want her to know that you've been
put in jail, do you?"

"What am I doing that would get me into jail?"

"Loitering. Loafing suspiciously. Drinking. A lot of things, my boy.
They'll nab you if you hang around here till three o'clock. You saw her go
in, didn't you?"

"Yes. She--she happened to turn h