Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-06

shop were stilled for moment, and when
Garriott looked up O'Dowd had conducted
| their visitor to his side.
"a lady, Brooke, he said, and stood aside.
Even then Garriott did not recognize her.
The fog of work was in his eyes and the
frown of concentration still fingered on his
brows. 1t was not until he got up and took
off his battered hat that he recognized his
wife. Even then in her white serge and pic
ture hat she seemed so strange visitor IN
the grim setting of the smoky background
that he stared in blank bewilderment, con-
scious of his CRIME and overalls and aware
of the sharp contrast in their conditions
She was perhaps the last person in the world
he was expecting to see, and the assurance
of her smile only deepened the mystery OF
her sudden appearance. He felt absolutely
i'll at ease, and it was only when her voice
broke the silence that he was recalled to the
necessities of the situation.
"You don't seem very glad to see me,
she began. would it be possible to spare
me moment or SOP"
He laughed a little uneasi1y. "Of course.
Will you 60 to the office? Ill join you when
wash my face. Jim, will you show Mrs.
Garriott up?"
IN few moments he met her up stairs,
closed the door of his Office and stood
before her. his eyes questioning.
II hope l haven't intruded."
"Not at ALL, quietly. Its nearly closing
| time. I'm going home at five"
Home! To the Grange?"
ooh, no; the Grange isn't" he paused.
II meant to my boarding house. 1t isn't
far from here"
"Oh." She was silent moment. "You
are living at one of those gloomy boarding
houses! That's very stupid. Why don't you
20 to a hotel?"
II want to be quiet. I have to be here
pretty early"
She shrugged her shoulders, and the quick
glance she threw round the room missed
nothing, -the washstand, the new safe, the
rusty chairs and desk he had picked up at
auction, his letter files, the water bottle in
the corner, and his street clothes which hung
on nail on the back of the door. Her lips
pursed critically; but she said politely, "It
seems you are already we'll established"
He made no reply. None was necessary.
He was waiting, curious as to the object of
| her visit, which he knew would soon be re-
vealed. She was handsome He watched
her as she got up and moved lightly over to
the window. Across the street was a row of
| dingy tenements, where soiled linen de-
pended from the fire escapes and the open
windows gave glimpses of squalid interiors,
l Ss
There was the smell of onions and frying
grease, and the squal1 of numberless infants
| UGH" she shuddered, shrinking back
into the room. "How hate ugliness! Must
you sit here and look at that all day?''
| II don't look when 1 can help it" he ex-
planned. Sometimes l must, of course.
But, then, ugliness has its uses. 1t makes
contrast. Beautiful things are not nearly
SO beautiful if you haven't ugly things to
compare them with. You can understand
that, can't your"
1t was new thought to her. She was not
accustomed to look at anything that was not
beautiful, and she regarded him curiously.
He was not beautiful, either; for there were
vestiges of SCOT on his chin. But he found
something encouraging in her interest in his
neighbours; so he came over and stood be-
side her. "Do you see that window over
there, the one with the nasturtium pot on
the fire escape? That is where the Salotti
family lives. One child has double pneu-
monia and is going to die; another has a
broken hip; the baby is not very we'll; and
the mother is consumptive. To make
things worse, the father was laid off when
his contractor finished the last job, and he
didn't work for month"
| "Why didn't he work." she asked indig-
nantly.