To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. "Oh, nothing—nothing," returned Mrs. “Dear husband,” she murmured. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. She said you HAD some money. ‘Why do you think I want a man ready to run to me with every move she makes?’ countered Gerald.
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