the minister of her church to preach against her."
Mrs. Jessop's voice fell unexpectedly on their ears. She had come in softly, in felt slippers. She grinned broadly.
"What's that?" she asked. "More about that street girl I threw out?"
"Nothing," answered Pearl, "only folks don't seem able to talk of anything else but her. She's like a magnet at Beemer's. I saw her today and she gets lovelier all the time."
"She'll come to a bad end," said Mrs. Jessop, her grin changing to her scowl. "You'll see."
"There's no harm in her," blazed Mrs. Bye.
The two women faced each other for a brief space, their eyes like swords, then Mrs. Jessop turned away and shuffled out of the room.
"I say there's no harm in her," repeated Mrs. Bye sturdily.
"Still, you can't help wondering," said Annie.
Mrs. Jessop was a much stranger woman than those about her ever guessed. Hers was a dominating personality, for her strong grey hair, glistening grey eyes, and thickset figure gave her the appearance of great energy, while her hearty laugh and terrible scowl made her moods felt in all their intensity. But beneath her passing moods lay her real self that she revealed to no one except Bastien whom she loved, and to him only in flashes—fierce caresses, violent fits of weeping that made him uneasy. She looked sometimes as though she were capable of running a knife into a man.
Mrs. Jessop had independent means. She occupied the
