couple of rooms, then I didn't write or nothink but just come straight out to surprise 'im."
"Lord, May, I can't think of you as married. What's his name?"
"Albert. Albert Masters."
"You're May Masters, then, reely, not May Phillips."
"Yes."
"What's he like? Handsome as Fine Nicht?"
"'E's not 'andsome at all. 'E's a little thickset fellow wiv bulgy blue eyes and a space between 'is two front teeth wot makes 'is smile sort of infantile, too. Oh, 'e ain't wot you'd ever call 'andsome, Delight, but 'e's charmin', 'e reely is."
"H'm," said Delight, pondering deeply.
"And 'e's got a masterful way wiv 'im, too, that a girl likes. 'E quite scares me sometimes, 'specially when 'e 'as a bit o' drink inside 'im. But then, again, 'e'll cry if I look cross at 'im."
"Oh, May, it must be funny to be married."
"Sometimes. Sometimes it's awful. When you don't know where 'e is, or wot 'e's up to. Just s'pose 'e's gone off wiv another woman."
"He'd never leave you for a Canadian girl."
"You can't tell wot they'll do when they gets out to Canader. Oh, I feel it in my bones there's something wrong. W'y ain't 'e 'ere?" She began to sob hysterically.
Delight pressed her to her breast. "Don't you take on, May," she whispered. "Tomorrow night it'll be Albert 'stead of me."
"Oh, if I only were sure," sobbed May. But she was too tired to cry for long. The heaving of her shoulders ceased. She lay supine in Delight's arms. The girl still rhythmically patted her back. She drew her head back on
