"I didn't have such an easy time gettin' it back from them
as you might think. I've got rather a sore wrist, in fact."
She paused at an inarticulate sound from him.
"Oh, that's soon mended," she laughed drearily. "The truth is, it's been
a good thing for me--your turning up. They're gettin' in too deep water
for me, Helene and her friends, and I've broken with the lot, or they've
broken with me, whichever it is. We couldn't hang together after the
fightin' we've done to-day. I had to do a lot of threatenin' and things.
Welch was ugly, so I had to be ugly too. Never mind"--she checked an
uncertain effort of his to speak--"I saw what you were like, soon as
we sat down at the table last night--how new you were and all that. It
needed only a glance to see that Helene had made a mistake about you.
She'd got a notion you were a millionaire like the little Cooley, but
I knew better from your talk. She's clever, but she's French, and she
can't get it out of her head that you could be an American and not a
millionaire. Of course, they _all_ knew better when you brought out
your express checks and talked like somebody in one of the old-time
story-books about 'debts of honor.
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