Kilner had disappeared for a time, having made enough to be able to retire to his painting, and René had no other society than the chauffeurs in the shelters during the day and the familiars of Mitcham Mews in the evening. He became sluggishly content to drift. He was making good money, increased by Ann's earnings. If he ever thought of the old life in the North at all, it was with lazy contempt and indifference. His first attitude toward London was reversed. He had begun with all the northerner's contempt for the easy ways of the metropolis. He never read anything but the newspaper, and every evening would read aloud the "fooltong" in the _Star_. Ann took it for the betting. She put aside two shillings a week for "the horses," and he joined her in that pursuit. He did not so much enjoy her pleasures as her zest for them, and it became his object to keep that alive. Without that he was at moments aware of a sickening sensation that was truly horrible, making him gird at his surroundings, at certain tricks that Ann had, at habits, gestures, tones in her voice that were like his sister-in-law Elsie's. He saw the resemblance first on receiving a letter from his brother George: "DEAR R,--A pal of mine who has been on the spree saw you in London the other day, says you drove him from the Troc to Bernard Street. I thought you'd have been off that long ago, but there's no accounting for tastes. I meant to write some time since to say the old man has hopped it again, and the mother has taken up her quarters with us. It seems some money came in--I can't make out where from--and he grabbed it and offed. It seems to have finished her; she's shut up tight, sits and knits, toddles off to church whenever there's a service, never mentions him or you. Elsie can't get anything out of her, though they talk enough together. It makes the house seem full of women. I've never set eyes on you know who since you cleared. I'm doing well enough, and hope to get something of my own in a few years, though small business don't stand much chance in these days against the big combines. You'd be amazed at the huge joint warehouses they're putting up now. Thrigsby's changing, and things are queer all round. People shift a bit now, what with the Colonies and all that. They don't stay in offices like they used to do, only it doesn't seem to make things any better for those who stay. Elsie sends her love; she always was a bit soft on you and didn't mind a bit when you cleared. I only meant to tell you about the mother, thinking you ought to know. If ever I get to London I'll look you up.--Thine, G.--Oh! Kurt Brock has gone in for the aviation and is making quite a name for himself up here."