entral."
Marian, still in a towering rage, sat down in her new room to consider
her situation. To fix her attention, which repeatedly wandered to what
had passed between her and Douglas, she counted her money, and found
that she had, besides a twenty pound note which she had brought with her
from London, only a few loose dollars in her purse. Her practice in
housekeeping at Westbourne Terrace and Holland Park had taught her the
value of money too well to let her suppose that she could afford to
remain at a first rate American hotel with so small a sum in her
possession. At home Conolly had made her keep a separate banking
account; and there was money to her credit there; but in her ignorance
of the law, she was not sure that she had not forfeited all her property
by eloping. She resolved to move at once into some cheap lodging, and to
live economically until she could ascertain the true state of her
affairs, or until she could obtain some employment, to support her. She
faced poverty without fear, never having experienced it.
It was still early in the afternoon when she left the hotel and drove to
the Crawfords'.
"So you have come at last," cried Mrs. Crawford, who was fifty years of
age and stout, but leaner in the face than fat Englishwomen of that age
usually are.
"I just expected you'd soon git tired of being grand all by yourself in
the hotel yonder."
"I fear I shall have to be the reverse of grand all by myself in some
very shabby lodging," said Marian. "Dont be surprised Mrs. Crawford. Can
one live in New York on ten dollars a week?"
"_You_ cant live on ten dollars a week in New York nor on a hundred. You
rode here, didnt you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Of course. If you have only ten dollars a week you should have walked.
I know the sort you are, Mrs. Forster. You wont be long getting rid of
your money, no matter where you live. But whats wrong? Hows your
husband?"
"I dont know. I hope he is quite well," said Marian, her voice trembling
a little. "Mrs. Crawford: you are the only friend I have in America;
and you have been so very kind to me that since I must trouble some one,
I have ventured to come to you. The truth is that I have left my
husband; and I have only about one hundred dollars in the world. I must
live on that until I get some employment, or perhaps some money of my
own from England."
"Chut, child! Nawnsnse!" exclaimed Mrs. Crawford, with benevolent
intolerance. "You go right back t
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