But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. ” “Do you think so? I find my interest in that sort of thing decline and decline. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. He went over her features one by one in his mind. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. “I confess it. We were to have breakfast there and return in the evening. The boy would never know just how lucky he was. The man is a stranger to me. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. I don’t know anyone.
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