“I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. It was hot and dry. Alban's to-night. I saw the blood come as he rolled over. Still—you must learn for yourself. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. The Wastrel did not relish this. I was one of the few. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally.
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