Wood gave the required promise, though he could not help thinking that if either of them had cause to be jealous he was the party. Take your pick, Mrs. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. It was that somebody had cheated you. Everything. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast.
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