"
"Yes," said Mamie.
Observe the tricks that conscience plays us. If Mamie had told Steve
what had caused William to wake he would certainly have been so charmed
by her presence of mind, exerted on his behalf to save him from the
warm fate which Mrs. Porter's unconscious hand had been about to bring
down upon him, that he would have forgotten his diffidence then and
there and, as the poet has it, have eased his bosom of much perilous
stuff.
But conscience would not allow Mamie to reveal the secret. Already she
was suffering the pangs of remorse for having, in however good a cause,
broken her idol's rest with a push that might have given the poor lamb
a headache. She could not confess the crime even to Steve.
And if Steve had had the pluck to tell Mamie that he loved her, as
he stood before her dripping with the water which he had suffered
in silence rather than betray her, she would have fallen into his
arms. For Steve at that moment had all the glamour for her of the
self-sacrificing hero of a moving-picture film. He had not actually
risked death for her, perhaps, but he had taken a sudden cold
shower-bath without a murmur--all for her.
Mamie was thrilled. She looked at him with the gleaming eyes of
devotion.
But Steve, just because he knew that he was wet and fancied that he
must look ridiculous, held his peace.
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