<000005>There was a convention of silence between Caro and Rose. From that day forward neither made any allusion to the escapade which had ended so unexpectedly. At the same time it was from the other's silence that each learned most; for Caro knew that if her eyes had deceived her and that last kiss been like the first, for fun, Rose would have spoken of itwhile Rose knew that Caro had seen the transmutation of her joke into earnest, because if she had not she would have been full of comments, questions, and scoldings.
With the gas-light flaring on her raddled face, showing up mercilessly the tawdriness and shoddiness of her clothes, which reeked of a cheap scent, the boys did not find it hard to believe that she often had a struggle to "git off "indeed, it was a mystery how any man, however unfastidious, however fuddled, could kiss or take kisses from this bundle of rags and bones and paint. Caro seemed to notice the disparaging look.
"Wot sort o' things do you paint?"Margaret was sitting near the window at needle-work, and Edith in her high-backed arm-chair, was knitting in the chimney-corner. Margaret blushing deeply, started from her seat as her eyes so unexpectedly encountered those of the baron."Either you fetch him here or I send fur the police.""Well, you've only got wot you desarve," said Reuben, turning to the door.
