’ Gerald’s jaw tightened. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Small, but eminently serviceable. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. He was six blocks away from his home, a ten story building apparently made solely of glass. And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window.
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