” “Why not?” she asked quietly. ’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. . Of you, I mean. It slipped out—as did that “she”. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features.
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