He laughed to hide his uneasiness. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. They had changed identities absolutely. "Oh! nothing at all," answered Jack, sneeringly, "though this room's as much mine as yours, for that matter. But what else he saw fit to teach her I do not care to stipulate. As a matter of fact it isn’t their affair. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it.
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