For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. I must not let you go again. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. “Please don’t be sad. Then she stood up and looked around the room.
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