Jimmy only shook his head and Alfred continued to read.
“'Had tea with Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and young Ardesley at the Park View.' Ardesley is a young cub,” explained Alfred, “who spends his time running around with married women while their husbands are away trying to make a living for them.”
“Shocking!” was the extent of Jimmy's comment, and Alfred resumed reading.
“'Dinner and theatre same party. Supper at Wellingford. Home two A. M.'” He looked at Jimmy, expecting to hear Zoie bitterly condemned. Jimmy only stared at him blankly. “That's pretty good,” commented Alfred, “for the woman who 'CRIED' all day, isn't it?”
Still Jimmy made no answer, and Alfred brought his fist down upon the table impatiently. “Isn't it?” he repeated.
“She was a bit busy THAT day,” admitted Jimmy uneasily.
“The truth!” cried Alfred again, as he rose and paced about excitedly. “Getting the truth out of Zoie is like going to a fire in the night. You think it's near, but you never get there. And when she begins by saying that she's going to tell you the 'REAL truth'”—he threw up his hands in despair—“well, then it's time to leave home.”
CHAPTER VI
There was another pause, then Alfred drew in his breath and bore down upon Jimmy with fresh vehemence. “The only time I get even a semblance of truth out of Zoie,” he cried, “is when I catch her red-handed.” Again he pounded the table and again Jimmy winced. “And even then,” he continued, “she colours it so with her affected innocence and her plea about just wishing to be a 'good fellow,' that she almost makes me doubt my own eyes. She is an artist,” he declared with a touch of enforced admiration. “There's no use talking; that woman is an artist.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Jimmy, for the want of anything better to say.
“I am going to leave her,” declared Alfred emphatically. “I am going away.”
A faint hope lit Jimmy's round childlike face. With Alfred away there would be no further
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