“It was fine and brave of you. “It’s the centre of the intellectuals. 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. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now.
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