There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. E. Please don’t tell anyone, mister. E. “Vee,” she said, “come home. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man.
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