She felt ready to weep with vexation.
Instead she cried gaily: "I've been tellin' them what a nice little 'ome they've got together.
I've seen plenty would be glad to start on less." Partridge seemed not to hear his wife's remark.

His mind dulled by shock and misfortune, was slowly revolving forgotten scenes.

He saw with incredible sharpness of view his first home, with its few sticks of second-hand furniture like Pinkey's, and Pinkey's mother, the dead image of her daughter.

That was where he belonged--to the old time, when he was young and proud of himself, able to drink his glass and sing a song with the best of them.

Someone pulled him gently.