The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive. "It'll ease your mind. She opened the door with a neon colored key. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand.
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