"
"Oh, but I wasn't s' drunk as all that," gasped Spike, cowering in
his chair, "but he kep' on comin' at me with his questions, an' at
last--when I told him how I met up with you--he kind o' give a jump--an'
his face--" Spike clenched his fists and, slowly raising them, pressed
them upon his eyes. "I'll never forget th' look on--his face! So now you
know as I've blown th' game on ye--given ye away--you as was my friend!"
With the word Spike sobbed and fell grovelling on his knees. "Curse me,
Geoff!" he cried. "Oh, curse me, an' tell me what I am!"
"You are Hermione's brother!"
"My God!" wailed the boy. "If she knew, she'd hate me."
"I--almost think she would, Spike."
"You won't tell her, Geoff, you won't never let her know?"
"I--don't get drunk, Spike."
"But you won't tell her?" he pleaded, reaching out desperate hands,
"you won't?"
"Not a word, Spike!"
"Oh, I know I'm--rotten!" sobbed the lad. "I know you ain't got no use
for me any more, but I'm sorry, Geoff, I'm real sorry. I know a guy
can't forgive a guy as gives a guy away if that guy's a guy's friend.
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