Darkness had fallen outside; she lighted the gas and drew the
shades.
"This is comfortable!" said George. "I wouldn't mind being sick now and
then at this rate! Come over here and undress near Pop, Julie. I'll tell
you what, Em--you call down the air shaft to Cass, and tell him to send
Henny up to make us a nice little coal fire here. I'll give Henny a
quarter."
"She's gone into the bathroom to fix her hair and wash her face," Julia
observed, as Emeline did not answer. A second later the child jumped up
to answer a sharp knock on the door.
To George's disgust it was Emeline's friend, Mrs. Marvin Povey, who came
in. Mrs. Povey was a tightly corseted, coarse-voiced, highly coloured
little blonde, breathless now from running upstairs. Her sister, Myrtle
Montague, was an ingenue in the little stock company at the Central
Theatre, and Mrs. Povey kept house for her and Mr. Povey, who spent all
his waking hours at the racetrack. The Poveys' flat was only a block
away from the Pages'.
George was furious to have this woman, whom he particularly detested,
come in upon him thus informally, and find him at so great a
disadvantage.
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