"I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. Look at it, I say. Through no fault of her own. “Yeah, where the hell were you? My friends would have driven you home when I came home if I could have found you. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. ’ Saling coughed.
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