“Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. In this way, more than a month passed over. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. He squinted and a disgusted look came over him. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. Ennison was deeply interested.
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