“But you do not know,” she whispered, “whether I am a married woman or not. Even WITH the Censorship of Plays there’s hardly a decent thing to which a man can take his wife and daughters, a creeping taint of suggestion everywhere. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Before proceeding to Wych Street, he called at the Lodge to see how matters were going on, and found Mrs. . ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening.
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