One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. ’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. I admit it. 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. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. We have a great deal to discuss, you and I. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage.
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