“Oh, dammit!” he remarked, “dammit!” with great bitterness as he faced it. She felt herself shaking again. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. ‘But then again, possibly not. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill.
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