them. Gwendolen, after her custom, left the door open and Kipps closed it carefully before sitting down.
He stood for a moment, regarding the meal doubtfully.
"I don't feel as if I could swaller a moufful," he said.
"You got to eat," said Ann.…
For a time they said little, and once swallowing was achieved, ate on with a sort of melancholy appetite. Each was now busy thinking.
"After all," said Kipps, presently, "whatever 'appens, they can't turn us out or sell us up before nex' quarter-day. I'm pretty sure about that."
"Sell us up!" said Ann.
"I dessey we're bankrup'," said Kipps, trying to say it easily and helping himself with a trembling hand to unnecessary potatoes.
Then a long silence. Ann ceased to eat, and there were silent tears.
"More potatoes, Artie?" choked Ann.
"I couldn't," said Kipps. "No."
He pushed back his plate, which was indeed replete with potatoes, got up and walked about the room. Even the dinner-table looked distraught and unusual.
"What to do, I don't know," he said.
"Oh, Lord!" he ejaculated, and picked up and slapped down a book.
Then his eye fell upon another postcard that had
