“May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. The woman shrugged her shoulders. ” His voice assumed an easy detached tone. To be confronted with the girl’s damned Frenchman of a husband was another matter altogether. Her place was not filled; she had been simply noted as absent, and she did a comforting day of admirable dissection upon the tortoise. "My friends, Mr. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. Now I know that you don’t live as close to the Beck house as you once pretended. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised.
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