The family had moved into it eight years
ago; and after Mr. Dwight's death his widow had barely made a living for
herself and her daughter out of the uncertain boarders. Mortimer had paid
his share, but she had encouraged him to dress well and no one knew the
value of "front" better than he. After her death, three years ago, Gora had
turned out the boarders and the last slatternly wasteful cook and let her
rooms to business women who made their morning coffee over the gas jet.
The new arrangement paid very well and left her time for lectures at the
University of California, and for other studies. A Jap came in daily to put
the rooms in order and she cooked for herself and her brother. So unknown
was she that even Aileen Lawton was unaware that the "boarding-house down
on Geary Street" was a lodging house kept by Mortimer Dwight's sister.
Fortunately Gora was spared one more quivering arrow in her pride.
CHAPTER VIII
I
There was a tremendous burst of dynamite that rocked the house. Then she
heard her brother's voice:
"Gora! Gora! Where are you?"
She let herself through the trap door and ran down to the first floor.
Her brother was standing in the lower hall surrounded by several of their
lodgers, competent-looking women, quite calm and business like, but dressed
as for a journey and carrying suitcases and bags.
"You are all ordered out," he was saying.
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