'He can't sell his pictures anywhere. He lives on the little he can get
from illustrating advertisements. And I t-taunt--'

'_Please!_' said Beverley, apprehensively.

She recovered herself with a gulp.

'I can't help it,' she said, miserably. 'I rubbed it in. Oh, it was
hateful of me! But I was all on edge from teaching one of my awful
pupils, and when he started to patronize you--'

She blinked.

'Poor devil!' said Beverley. 'I never guessed. Good Lord!'

Annette rose.

'I must go and tell him I'm sorry,' she said. 'He'll snub me horribly,
but I must.'

She went out. Beverley lit a pipe and stood at the window looking
thoughtfully down into the street.

* * * * *

It is a good rule in life never to apologize. The right sort of people
do not want apologies, and the wrong sort take a mean advantage of
them. Sellers belonged to the latter class. When Annette, meek,
penitent, with all her claws sheathed, came to him and grovelled, he
forgave her with a repulsive magnanimity which in a less subdued mood