I hope and trust that nothing may happen to prevent your receiving this letter to-morrow, for I am very uneasy, and not likely to become less so as time goes on.
"Believe me, dear Mr.Mallard, "Sincerely yours, "EDITH LESSINGHAM." At seven o'clock in the evening, Mallard was in Naples.

He did not go to Casa Rolandi, but took a room in one of the musty hotels which overlook the port.

When he felt sure that Mrs.Gluck's guests must have dined, he presented himself at the house and sent his name to Mrs.
Lessingham.
She took his hand with warm welcome.
"Thank you for coming so promptly.

I have been getting into such a state of nervousness.

Cecily keeps her room, and looks ill; I have several times been on the point of sending for the doctor, though it seemed absurd." Mallard seated himself without invitation; indeed, he had a difficulty in standing.
"Hasn't she been out to-day ?" he asked, in a voice which might have signified selfish indifference.
"Nor yesterday.