She listened, her suspicions confirmed. The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John. "Bring him back with you. ‘That’s wicked, that is. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face.
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