One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. Such apartments as she saw were either scandalously dirty or unaccountably dear, or both. "What is he gone there for?" "With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner," replied Wild, with a cunning smile. “I can survive on my own. “He was in holy orders, and we were to have been married when he got a living.
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