” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. I wonder if he really wants me to go home. . " "But you can imagine it. He'd never forgive you. We don’t want things to happen. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms.
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