The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. "On the way to the cutters," said Ah Cum. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. Marry, come up! I've been a great deal too charitable. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. Ann Veronica realized that she was alone with the world. "You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod. “I was frightened then,” she declared. “I hope you are going to Carey House. And she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. Ramage talked always about women or some woman’s concern, and very much about Ann Veronica’s own outlook upon life. Ah Cum was more or less familiar with alcoholic types.
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