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” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. . He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. He was an outside broker and the proprietor of a financial newspaper; he had come up very rapidly in the last few years, and Mr. The tension was palpable. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked frenetically from class to class. 270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water.
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