“Will you come in, Sir John. " "Keep in your own room, at all events," rejoined Kneebone. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. Playing became a way of escape.
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