She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr. ‘I fear you mistake, Emile. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. The Rev. As this had been Mrs. Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear.
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