Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. He was an outside broker and the proprietor of a financial newspaper; he had come up very rapidly in the last few years, and Mr. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards.
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