The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. She was consumed by misery and hate. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. He—wanted to marry me. Well, you shall know.
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