Men do not understand constancy as women do. "What has happened?" Ruth asked. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. But that possibility had been anticipated. Primarily it was her own problem, and in particular the answer she had to give to Mr. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. "Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs.
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