‘Well?’ she said. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back. "But what does he mean by calling you a wanton? —you, my wife?" Enschede's hand slipped from his daughter's shoulder. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed. ” Ennison hesitated for a moment. E.
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