” “You know, Mr. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. Presently you will see that I am right, and then you shall take your vacation over here, and we will be good comrades again. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. He was caressing an idea. She seemed to assume that it must certainly be something she had said. I’m sorry.
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