Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. Day before, send round to each to borrow a shirt. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction.
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