The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. 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. ’ Madame Valade reseated herself, and Gerald set himself to flatter her into relaxation again.
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