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Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. My late husband, I mean. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. What do you know about her, Fred? I am interested. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. He leaned forward to embrace her. My wife—killed me. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Anna went out. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth.
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