Michelle shrugged her off. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. Michelle pulled a Kleenex out of a Pocket Pack and blew her nose. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster.
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