"I've written to my father."
The fellow looked at me with open admiration.
"Better 'tend to this thing; better write again to--your father," he said
and walked off, leaving me cold and tremulous with rage.
I must have imagined the pause, the inflection; but he has me under
surveillance. Like a thief!
I flew to the dining-room and swallowed a glass of sherry, for I was faint
and quivering; but before I had turned from the sideboard Cadge bounced
into the room, tearing through the flat to find me, and stopped to stare,
open-eyed.
"Drop that!" she cried.
"Oh, don't preach! I've just been having such a time!"
"Everybody has 'em; I've had fifty a year for fifty years. And I don't
mind your drowning sorrow in the flowing bowl, either. But do it like a
man, in company. Honest now, Helen."
She changed the subject abruptly to the errand that had brought her; but,
before she went away, she looked curiously at the sideboard and said:----
"Helen, you really don't----"
"Mercy, no! Scarcely at table, even. Why I used to be shocked to see how
things to drink are thrust upon women, even in department stores.
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