In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. “Someone must have found it and taken good care of it. 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. She dare not risk it. “Among other things, you know, I didn’t understand quite—I didn’t understand that you were so keenly interested in this suffrage question. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval.
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