It got on my nerves—the women I saw. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do. " "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed. "That I can't say. “You propose, then,” she remarked, “that I shall still be saddled with a pseudo husband. The owner was at the door unhooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he had exposed outside for sale. About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes.
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