As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know.
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