He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. . “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. 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. . Startled by the cry, as may be supposed, the attention of the whole congregation was drawn towards the quarter whence it proceeded. A slow anger burned in the man. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought.
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