"Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. “Every one raves about her,” Lady Angela continued. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. ’ He paused for the effect of his words to sink in, and then added, ‘Don’t be so ready to show hackle.
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