Man had heard God’s voice across the deep, and had made answer. She showed the telegram to her father. “Do you mind, Dad, if we go straight back?” she asked.!

“It would help, undoubtedly,” the girl answered. “I don’t see any other way of getting hold of them.” It consoled him, later, that he was not the only victim. The Daily Dispatch became famous for its piquant interviews; especially with elderly celebrities of the masculine gender.

“Didn’t you love him?” asked the girl, staring. “Wouldn’t you have helped him?” “It always seemed to me immoral, the marriage ceremony,” the Human Document was explaining. She was a thin, sallow woman, with an untidy head and restless eyes that seemed to be always seeking something to look at and never finding it. “How can we pledge the future? To bind oneself to live with a man when perhaps we have ceased to care for him; it’s hideous.” There, the little pew-opener had left her, having to show the early-comers to their seats; and Joan had found an out-of-the-way pew from where she could command a view of the whole church. They were chiefly poor folk, the congregation; with here and there a sprinkling of faded gentility. They seemed in keeping with the place. The twilight faded and a snuffy old man shuffled round and lit the gas.