Her shoulders began to ache. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. Queer old gentleman! The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. Hearing the distant shouts, these fellows rushed down to the entrance of the court, and arrived there just as Jack passed it. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. “But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves. “I wish you would come and see my lawyers. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs.
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