“How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. "Is there anything wrong with it?" "Wrong? Why, you have been imposed upon somewhere. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. Brendon and I are great chums,” he went on nervously. Farewell. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Ruth Enschede, Hartford, Conn.
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