" "What villain?" cried Hogarth. “How do you feel?” she asked. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. . “I am bored,” she said abruptly. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. His brain reeled. ” “The man?” 228 “Yes. Just let him down easy, Lucy. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent.
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