Santa Clara?" he said abruptly, in his previous critical tone.

"Because of the folks there. They were standoffish and ugly. You see,
Josh"--

"Who?"

"Josh Rylands!--HIM! He told everybody who I was, even those who had
never seen me in the bills,--how good I was to marry him, how he had
faith in me and wasn't ashamed,--until they didn't believe we were
married at all. So they looked another way when they met us, and didn't
call. And all the while I was glad they didn't, but he wouldn't believe
it, and allowed I was pining on account of it."

"And were you?"

"I swear to God, Jack, I'd have been content, and more, to have been
just there with him, seein' nobody, letting every one believe I was dead
and gone, but he said it was wrong, and weak! Maybe it was," she added,
with a shy, interrogating look at Jack, of which, however, he took no
notice. "Then when he found they wouldn't call, what do you think he
did?"

"Beat you, perhaps," suggested Jack cheerfully.

"He never did a thing to me that wasn't straight out, square, and kind,"
she said, half indignantly, half hopelessly. "He thought if HIS kind
of people wouldn't see me, I might like to see my own sort. So without
saying anything to me, he brought down, of all things! Tinkie Clifford,
she that used to dance in the cheap variety shows at 'Frisco, and her