. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ” He was arrested for a moment by an indistinct picture of Veronica reading this last sentence. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend. Darrell stopped, and drew his sword. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. For what could be more ironical than for Howard Spurlock to see himself grow famous under the name of Taber? The ambrosia of which he had so happily dreamt!—and this gall and wormwood! He stood up and rapped his pipe on the rail. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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