For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. ” “I will tell her,” Anna promised. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother.
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