’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. " "Wear that to-night, then. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption.
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