May I be permitted, as a very old and very dear friend of your lamented parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore, to ask you one question?" "Undoubtedly," replied Winifred. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. ’ She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor. Because of the thought of love and companionship? No. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear. ” It was significant of her influence over him that he answered her calmly, although a storm of angry thoughts were struggling for expression within him.
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