The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. She left for good after he fell asleep. “Bless you, sweetheart. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. John caught her in the hall around third period. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. The minute he discovers Roding here, he’ll know something is up. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. But she had loved the man.
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