“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. They are their mother’s sons. I thought about how insensitive my behavior was and even though I don’t think that I was being antiSemitic on purpose, I can see how dumb I was being. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray.
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