"I thought mebbe he was mad. Men are so queer about things."
"No, he wasn't mad, I'm sure. It's all right, Mrs. Biggs. Nine o'clock to-morrow."
"Yes'm."
So that was why Jerry was under a dark cloud. He resented the secret about the room in the tenement.
"Jerrykins, I wonder if thy great-great-great-granddaughter will be able really to call her soul her own. Jerry could have a whole series of workshops, of which I knew nothing, and consider it his business only; but if my soul has one unexplored corner—my body one unexplained resting place—I am no true wife! The times, my son, are always out of joint," she added with a sigh.
Jerry stayed away all day and telephoned he would spend the night at the club. He came in the next morning just in time for his model, to find Jane coming in, too.
"Good-morning, Jerry," she said cheerfully.
"Good-morning."
"Hope you had a pleasant party."
"I did not."