Wait a second. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. He must have married when he was quite a young man. A fever of shame ran through her being. Her teachers and mistresses had done their best to stamp her mind with an ineradicable persuasion that it was tremendously important, and on no account to be thought about. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. "Let me see him.
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