“I suppose I shall have to write an answer. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. I shall be very sorry if I cannot have you for a friend. I do not believe that you will marry David Courtlaw. " "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window.
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