No place for men.

We argued.

At last I blew the police-whistle which I wear on the end of my watch-chain.

Marigold came hurrying out of the house.
"Mrs.Connor is going to take us for a run," said I.
"Very good, sir." "Your blood be on your own heads," said Betty.
We talked a while of what had happened.

Vague stories of the demoralization of wives left alone with a far greater weekly income than they had ever handled before had reached our ears.