“You will have to eat soon,” he said cryptically. ’ ‘Don’t count on it. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. “There is no doubt whatever about that. All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this phase which was wholly suppositional. Perhaps in the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. “You’ve been sneaking out just as often as Mary Lucia. ’ ‘Dear me.
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