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He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. " "You'd better," replied Quilt. I would that you were my own. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you. I will go to-night. She snapped out of her blissful state and looked at him squarely in the eyes. Was not Gerald altogether on her side? He was, even though he played games like an imbecile, a person tout à fait sympathique as she had discovered at the outset. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. "I would have done more, if necessary.
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