S. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son.
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