Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. " "Very well. But, when? When do they go?’ ‘Today, miss. And afterward she saw a very much larger and more enthusiastic gathering, a meeting of the advanced section of the woman movement in Caxton Hall, where the same note of vast changes in progress sounded; and she went to a soiree of the Dress Reform Association and visited a Food Reform Exhibition, where imminent change was made even alarmingly visible. She was finally dead, going to Hell. "That is easily explained.
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