" "How so?" inquired Winifred. 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. Ever hear of the djinn in the bottle? Like enough. She isn't used to cities. "Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. Oblige me by acting under my guidance in the matter, Sir Rowland. But Gerald kept to a casual note. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. The momentary alarm over, he threw a piece of-wash leather over a bureau, so as to deaden the sound, and instantly broke it open with a small crowbar. I have the right also to throw you out.
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