London. He is always doing something to make himself notorious.
There was that breach-of-promise case, and that fight at the
political meeting, and his escapades at Monte Carlo, and--and
everything. And he must be drinking himself to death. I think
Eugenia's insane. She seems to have no influence over him at
all."

Mr. Pett moaned sympathetically.

"And now the papers have found out that I am his aunt, and I
suppose they will print my photograph whenever they publish an
article about him."

She ceased and sat rigid with just wrath. Mr. Pett, who always
felt his responsibilities as chorus keenly during these wifely
monologues, surmised that a remark from him was indicated.

"It's tough," he said.

Mrs. Pett turned on him like a wounded tigress.

"What is the use of saying that? It's no use saying anything."

"No, no," said Mr. Pett, prudently refraining from pointing out
that she had already said a good deal.

"You must do something."

Ann entered the conversation for the first time. She was not very
fond of her aunt, and liked her least when she was bullying Mr.