The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. “Sure, I guess so. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. Silk. ” “I wish you would use my Christian name,” he said. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. “It was my sister Anna.
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