” “You do not deny that you are my wife,” he asked hoarsely. ‘Yes, tell us everything at once,’ instructed Lucilla, pushing him towards the sofa she had vacated, and obliging him to sit beside her. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. This had well nigh been the case with the carpenter. The door opened. . ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. . I had no idea!” She sat down abruptly and threw her wrists limply upon the table.
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