” “Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?” “Yes,” she answered. 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. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. ". Small blame to her. ” He replied. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. He had taken it back. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed.
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