Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. 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. “You’re very nice, both of you,” she said gently. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. ’ The old man simply stared at her. I wonder——” He turned slowly round.
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