\" He looked crestfallen. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. But that was all over. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. He could not kiss Ruth. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. "This is the noted house-breaker and prison-breaker, gentlemen," said Mr. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. ” “No, mine.
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