He turned in at the club. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. “I wonder—I wonder if we shall ever get like that. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. . elizabethbailey.
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