“Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. He offered me at once an engagement. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention.
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