“I keep trying to think what kind of a house you lived in.”
He described Hog Lane West.
“No. The other one, I mean.”
“Oh, that?” He told her it was like a little house in some Gardens not far away.
Then in the same dry, weary voice she said:
“I have been trying to think what she felt when you left her.”
“For God’s sake,” cried he, “for God’s sake keep that out of it.”
“I do try to, Renny, dear. But I can’t help thinking about her sometimes when you’re like that——”
“Don’t talk about it, Ann, don’t talk about it. Go to sleep.”