"Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. “No!” she exclaimed. I followed you home on the train. She despises me, I suppose. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent.
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