“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. ” She paused. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up.
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