Part 40 (1/2)
He lifted his gray, tragic face, amazed.
”You still here?”
It was as if he had forgotten her. But Myra was not now thinking of herself. She spoke, breathlessly:
”Joe, I think Rhona Hemlitz is in trouble.”
”How so?”
”She was knocked down by a thug, and she had him arrested, but I'm afraid _she's_ arrested.”
A dangerous light came into Joe's eyes.
”All right! All right! Where did this happen?”
”On Great Jones Street.”
”Well and good,” he muttered.
”But isn't there anything to do?” cried Myra.
”Why, if she's not arrested, she'll come here and report, and if she doesn't come I'll go over to the Night Court at nine this evening.”
”I must go with you,” cried Myra.
”You?” He looked at her, and then suddenly he asked: ”But how did you come to hear of this?”
”I was picketing with her.”
A great change came over Joe's face, as if he beheld a miracle.
”Myra! So you have been picketing!”
Her face went very white.
”Don't! Don't!” she breathed painfully, sinking in a chair. ”I was a coward, Joe--I didn't do anything to help her!”
”But what could you do?”
”Oh, something, anything.”
He glanced at her keenly, and a swift smile lit his features. He spoke very gently.
”Myra, you step in back to my mother. Take supper with her. Keep her company. I'm afraid I'm neglecting mother these days.”
”And the Night Court?” Myra was swallowing sobs.
”I'll look in for you at nine o'clock.”