Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. “Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone.
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