to struggle with some
more primitive emotion. Taking out a large, black-edged handkerchief,
he blew his nose, passed it freely over his visage, and turning to his
daughter, muttered:

"Go upstairs."

The girl turned quickly, and the last glimpse of her white face whipped
up Gyp's rage against men. When the door was shut, Mr. Wagge cleared his
throat; the grating sound carried with it the suggestion of enormously
thick linings.

He said more gruffly than ever:

"May I ask what 'as given us the honour?"

"I came to see your daughter."

His little piggy eyes travelled from her face to her feet, to the walls
of the room, to his own watch-chain, to his hands that had begun to rub
themselves together, back to her breast, higher than which they dared
not mount. Their infinite embarrassment struck Gyp. She could almost
hear him thinking: 'Now, how can I discuss it with this attractive young
female, wife of the scoundrel who's ruined my daughter? Delicate-that's
what it is!' Then the words burst hoarsely from him.

"This is an unpleasant business, ma'am. I don't know what to say. Reelly
I don't. It's awkward; it's very awkward."

Gyp said quietly:

"Your daughter is desperately unhappy; and that can't be good for her
just now."

Mr. Wagge's thick figure seemed to writhe. "Pardon me, ma'am," he
spluttered, "but I must call your husband a scoundrel. I'm sorry to
be impolite, but I must do it. If I had 'im 'ere, I don't know that I
should be able to control myself--I don't indeed." Gyp made a movement
of her gloved hands, which he seemed to interpret as sympathy, for he
went on in a stream of husky utterance: "It's a delicate thing before a
lady, and she the injured party; but one has feelings. From the first I
said this dancin' was in the face of Providence; but women have no more
sense than an egg. Her mother she would have it; and now she's got it!
Career, indeed! Pretty career! Daughter of mine! I tell you, ma'am, I'm
angry; there's no other word for it--I'm angry. If that scoundrel comes
within reach of me, I shall mark 'im--I'm not a young man, but I
shall mark 'im. An' what to say to you, I'm sure I don't know. That my
daughter should be'ave like that! Well, it's made a difference to me.
An' now I suppose her name'll be dragged in the mud. I tell you frankly
I 'oped you wouldn't hear of it, because after all the girl's got her
punishment. And this divorce-court--it's not nice--it's a horrible thing
for respecta