How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. simply lost all hope. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled.
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