" "It is, indeed," replied Mrs. ” On the inside she felt her muscles loosen with relief. But it's confounded inconvenient. You are very kind. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. You will go out at once, if you please. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. Now if she sent fifteen pounds the suggestion that she had spent a five-pound note in the meanwhile would be irresistible. He looked at her with a certain curiosity.
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