He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. But send me word.
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