“Well——” She stopped short. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me.
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