Betty Jo instinctively drew closer to Brian's side.
"Hello, Brian, dear!" said the woman, with a drunken leer. "Thought I'd
call to see you in your charming love-nest that Harry Green raved so
about. Can't you introduce me to your little sweetheart?"
"No?" she continued, and laughed again. Then coming an unsteady step
toward them, she added, thickly: "Very well, Brian, old sport; you
won't introduce me,--I'll have to introduce myself." She grinned with
malicious triumph at Betty Jo: "Don't be frightened, my dear. It's all
right. I'm nobody of importance,--just his wife,--that's all,--just his
wife."
Betty Jo, with a little cry, turned to the man who stood as if stricken
dumb with horror. "Brian?" she said. "Oh, Brian?"
It was the first time she had ever addressed him by his given name, and
Brian Kent, as he looked, saw in those gray eyes no hint of doubt or
censure, but only the truest love and sympathy. Betty Jo had not failed
in the moment of her supreme testing.
"It's true, all right, isn't it, Brian?" said Martha Kent. "I'm his wife
fast enough, my dear. But you don't need to worry,--you two. I'm a good
sport,--I am. I've had my fun. No kick coming from me. Just called to
pay my respects,--that's all. So-long, Brian, old sport! Good-bye, my
dear!"
With an uncertain wave of her hand, she staggered through the doorway
and passed from their sight.
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