He mechanically picked up the intaglio ring from the
table while he stood there, and put it on his little finger; his hand was
not much bigger than Christine's. "How do you suppose she found it out?"
he asked, after a moment.
"She seems to have merely suspected it," said Mrs. Mandel, in a tremor,
and with the fright in her eyes which Christine's violence had brought
there.
"Well, it don't make any difference. She had to know, somehow, and now
she knows." He started toward the door of the library, as if to go into
the hall, where his hat and coat hung.
"Mr. Dryfoos," palpitated Mrs. Mandel, "I can't remain here, after the
language your daughter has used to me--I can't let you leave me--I--I'm
afraid of her--"
"Lock yourself up, then," said the old man, rudely. He added, from the
hall before he went out, "I reckon she'll quiet down now."
He took the Elevated road. The strike seemed a vary far-off thing, though
the paper he bought to look up the stockmarket was full of noisy
typography about yesterday's troubles on the surface lines. Among the
millions in Wall Street there was some joking and some swearing, but not
much thinking, about the six thousand men who had taken such chances in
their attempt to better their condition.
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