Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. Hope reared.
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