Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. It is that you cannot refuse her sanctuary. . “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter.
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