"And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. ” “What is there to be feared?” he asked her quietly. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. Be so good as to let me pass, sir,” she added, looking her obstructor steadily in the face. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Perhaps an hour later he would begin again.
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