“I can’t endure it,” she said. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. ” “But it may matter very much indeed,” Anna declared. Her brother Roddy, who was in the motor line, came to expostulate; her sister Alice wrote. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. Dump instantly complied, and as soon as Jack was removed from the sacred edifice, his person was searched from head to foot—but without success.
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