Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. "Tomorrow I shall have a visitor. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. Horribly skinny he was, and short too. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. What you would look upon as immorality is here merely an established custom, three thousand years older than Christianity, accepted with no more ado than that which would accompany you should you become a clerk in a shop. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. "You don't say so!" replied Mrs.
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