"Rose is going to
get herself into trouble!" Cass predicted darkly to Quin; while Rose, on
her part, declared that Cass should shave his head and enter a monastery.
"What are you two ragging about, anyhow?" Quin asked one morning at
breakfast, when things were worse than usual.
"Rose knows what I'm talking about," said Cass significantly. "Somebody's
going to get his face pushed in if things keep on like they are going."
Absorption in his own affairs alone prevented Quin from taking an
immediate hand in this new family complication. It was not until late in
May that he hit upon the truth, quite by accident.
Coming home rather later than usual one night, he stumbled over Cass
sitting hunched up on the dark stairway, looking in his striped pajamas
like an escaped convict.
"What in the devil are you up to?" Quin demanded, rubbing a bruised shin.
"I am waiting for Rose," said Cass grimly. "Some fellow comes by here
every few nights and takes her out in a machine."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know--that's what I'm going to find out."
"You crazy wop!" said Quin. "What's got into you lately? Can't you trust
Rose to take care of herself?"
"Yes; but I don't trust any fellow that'll go with a girl and be ashamed
to be seen with her.
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