"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. He saw three people: a young man at the piano, an elderly man smoking in a corner, and a young woman reclining in a chair, her eyes closed. Wood trembled. They made a stratum into which Ann Veronica was now plunged up to her neck; it had become her stratum. 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. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. But leave me here in my home, child, I will disintegrate if I am exposed. "It's a mysterious transaction altogether. There was something very wrong. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not.
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