It seemed to him a miracle of intuition, that she should sense the fight he was making; and since he felt that way about it, it was just as well he did not know that Jim Felton sensed it quite as keenly as Josephine--and with a far greater understanding of how bitter a fight it was, and for that reason a deeper sympathy.
"I wish Chester was here!" wailed Mrs.Kate, across the glow of his exultant thoughts.

"I'm afraid to say anything to him myself, he's so morose.

It's a shame, because he's so splendid when he's--himself." "He's as much himself now as ever he was," Josephine defended hotly.
"When he's drinking he's altogether--" "You never saw him drunk," Mrs.Kate pointed to the weak spot in Josephine's defense of him.

"Dick says--" "Oh, do you believe everything Dick says?
A week ago you were bitter against Dick and all enthusiasm for Ford." "You were flirting with Dick then, and you'd hardly treat Ford decently.
And Ford hadn't gone to drink--" "Will you hush ?" There were tears of anger in Josephine's voice.

"He isn't, I tell you!" "What does he keep that jug in the closet for?
And every few hours he comes up to the house and goes into his room--and he never did that before.