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Updated: August 28, 2024
Secure as their position might be, Olive called herself a blind idiot for having, in spite of all her first shrinkings, agreed to bring Verena to New York. Verena had jumped at the invitation, the very unexpectedness of which on Mrs. Burrage's part it was such an odd idea to have come to a mere worldling carried a kind of persuasion with it.
At heart Creed was a craven, a bullying swashbuckler, who bragged and blustered among the rheumy-eyed down-and-outers who nightly foregathered about Burrage's stove, but who was servile and cringing as a starved puppy toward Moncrossen and Stromberg, who openly despised him.
Burrage his address, for had it not been contained in the short letter he despatched to Monadnoc Place soon after his return from Boston, in which he thanked Miss Tarrant afresh for the charming hour she had enabled him to spend at Cambridge? She had not answered his letter at the time, but Mrs. Burrage's card was a very good answer.
The sound of the once familiar whistle brought the men tumbling from Burrage's door, while up and down the deserted street aproned forms stood framed in the doorways, beflanked by tousled heads which gazed wonder-eyed from behind tight-gripped skirts.
I don't think she thinks you can be saved in a French dress, anyhow. I must say I call it a very base evasion of Mrs. Burrage's, producing Verena Tarrant; it's worse than the meretricious music. Why didn't she honestly send for a ballerina from Niblo's if she wanted a young woman capering about on a platform?
Burrage's; but in a moment he saw that he had said enough. As for Verena, she had said more than she meant, and the simplest way to unsay it was to go and get her bonnet and jacket and let him take her where he liked. Five minutes later he was walking up and down the parlour, waiting while she prepared herself to go out.
Such a glimpse was all that was wanted to prove to him that she was a person for whom he might open an unlimited credit of tender compassion. He expected to suffer to suffer deliciously. By the time he had crossed Mrs. Burrage's threshold there was no doubt whatever in his mind that he was in the fashionable world.
It seemed ages he stood there, staring in horrible fascination at the man in the river and then the man moved! He was advancing slowly shoreward, with a curious limp, as he had entered Burrage's store. Creed's ashen lips moved stiffly, and his tongue seemed to fill his mouth. "I've got 'em! I've got 'em," he maundered. "'S the booze, an' I'm seein' things!"
Such a missive deserved a rejoinder, and it was by way of rejoinder that he entered the street car which, on the evening of March 26th, was to deposit him at a corner adjacent to Mrs. Burrage's dwelling. The platform it evidently was to be private if not public since one was admitted by a ticket given away if not sold. He took his in his pocket, quite ready to present it at the door.
But, after all I have gone through to-night, how can I appear in public? My dear, this Miss Burrage's business has given me such a shock, such nervous affections!" "Nervous affections! Some people, I do believe, have none but nervous affections," thought Lady Frances. "Permit me," said Mrs.
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