His statement was treated with derision. It was a mad half-hour. Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. He was human. After all, life had still its pulsations. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. ‘What else was there to do? He paid off the servants and left old Pottiswick in charge, saying that the place would have to remain empty until the heir was found. I don’t idealize you.
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