"Show me your warrant!" said Wood, almost driven to his wit's-end; "perhaps it isn't regular?" "Ask him who he is?" suggested Thames. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. “But I am your husband,” he said. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She felt much better. The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. “That’s the point.
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