It began as a joke. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. Manning’s handwriting, and opened his letter and read some lines before its import appeared. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. I said I’d make shirts. It’s no good. Ireton, you are in league with him. She was tempted to touch him in the car as they drove to the empty house, but she refrained for fear of causing a car accident. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life.
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