If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. Her back arched and she felt herself instinctively sinking into him. While I am talking about your friends, I feel—I think you ought to know how I look at it. " "Knock him on the head," thundered Sir Cecil, "or we shall have the watch upon us. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
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