He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her. She did not wince. “Difficulties indeed. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. " "You look pretty fit. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. The pleasure intensified quickly, it was as much control as she dared to lose as she heard herself calling his name with all her breath. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. She became angry with herself. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious.
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