’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. She had seen for herself right up in the bedroom window with her binoculars when Joanie was gone shopping one night, right with her own eyes. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. “That is as you will,” she said. Decidedly this was imbecile. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands.
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