"No, no, let him alone," interposed Wood. “Yes. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. If only you could see the people who have been to call on me! Sir John has the most absurd ideas, too.
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