For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. After all, what could happen? He was looking at her very hard and earnestly. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. I will tell you our plans on the way to the station. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look.
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