was to end this way. And Edna! Thoughts failed her on the subject of Edna.
She was ready now. Ready to walk through the parlor without a word to any of them. Ready to rove the streets till morning. She couldn't go to Eddie like this. The felt hat, still coldly damp, pressed against her temples. The coat, wet and heavy, depressed her.
In the parlor she paused for a speeding second. Mr. Haley was reading again with self-conscious absorption. Jim was yanking spitefully at the curtains, and Edna, bent over a sofa pillow, was plucking interestedly at the embroidery.
Dot walked slowly through the hall. Her valises were heavy. So was her heart. Suppose Eddie failed her now? Then there was only the poorly paid job and the fact that she was a "little bum."
The door closed upon her with a sad, muffled little sound. The trio in the front room changed their attitudes as her footsteps died away on the marble stairs. Mr. Haley looked up from his thrilling serial story and stared ahead of him with a blank, fixed look. Jim mumbled a curse and slumped into a chair. Edna grabbed up her coat and hat.
"Where are you going?" asked Jim.
"After the kid, of course, you hypocritical louse. You called her a bum, didn't you? And just because you merely suspect that she gave herself to a man. Well, you know that I did; so I just got an idea what you really feel about me. I'm sticking by Dorothy, see?"
And the door closed again, this time with a hard, firm slam that obviously carried the courage of its convictions.
