‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. . Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office. ” He said wistfully. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding.
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