Sydney sprang up. “Yeah. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. My own impression is that he already knows. "Most persons would have guessed my meaning. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale.
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