It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. She would have to leave very soon. . “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. ” It was settled. Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully.
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