He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. John, I shall eat that whole tin of sardines. Presently he heard her voice. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch. “Why don’t they wait?” he added.
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