" "But, my love," still remonstrated Wood, "you know I'm going to look after the boys——" "After Mrs. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. . . He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. Here's a couple in hand. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee.
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