“Yes,” thought Rosa, “there's an extraordinary attraction about her that makes all other women seem tame.” And then Rosa remembered somebody else, and sighed.
John Storm went back to Soho by way of Clare Market, and when people saluted him in the streets with “Good-morning, Father,” he did not answer because he did not see them. On going to church that night he came upon a group of Charlie's cronies betting six to one against his getting off, and a girl in gay clothes was waiting to speak to him. It was Aggie. She had come to plead for Charlie.
“It's the drink, sir. 'E's a good boy when 'e's not drinking. But I ask pardon for 'im; and if you would only not prosecute——”
John was ashamed of himself at sight of the girl's fidelity to her unworthy lover.
“And you, my child—what about you?”
“Oh, I'm all right. What's broken can't be mended.”
And meanwhile the church bells were ringing and the cabs were running to the theatres.