down here."

Selwyn's look of amazed disapprobation had its usual effect. I
hadn't intended to mention the party, and instantly I went into its
details.

"All kinds of people were at it and every woman had on a dress which
entirely covered her. When I was a child I adored a person named
Wyman, who used to give performances in which all sorts of unexpected
things happened. Last night was a sort of Wyman night."

"I did not know you were going to parties." Selwyn's tone was curt.

"I am not--to your sort." My face flushed. "I said this girl was a
printer. I should have said she used to be. Two years ago she was
caught in some machinery at the place where she worked and has never
been able to stand up since. On her birthday her friends give her a
party that she may have a bit of brightness. I went over to play
that they might dance. She is fond of music and an old piano has
recently been given her by--by some one interested in her."

For a moment there was silence, then throwing his cigar in the fire,
Selwyn got up and stood looking down at me. In his eyes was strange
worry and unrest.

"I beg your pardon." He bit his lips. "I've been pretty ragged of
late and I'm always thoughtless. For two weeks I've seen no
one--that is, no friend of yours or mine who hasn't asked me why you
have done so inexplicable a thing as to leave everybody you know and
go into a part of the town where you know nobody and where--"