” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. ” “My wife was astounded—wounded beyond measure. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. Make no promises on a night where I have burdened you with such awful knowledge. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms.
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