‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. " "And so Sir Rowland murdered his friend," remarked Wood. Gerald hoped he had covered all options and had resisted the temptation to pay mademoiselle a visit. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. I followed, taking up hunting so that way I could track you, to make sure you would become well again. " "I'd good reasons for placing it there, Sir; but don't question me about them now, or you'll drive me mad," returned Mrs.
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