‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. There ends my duty. And yet, dang it! I've seen 'em just as innocent looking that were prime vipers. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. Do look at this tragedy in mauve, who has just come in. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way.
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