Grant shuddered.

"If she only realized what marrying a man of that sort means!" he exclaimed, half aloud.

"But she doesn't.

Only a woman who has been married can appreciate what sort of a hell for sensitive nerves and refined tastes marriage can be made." "Ah--Mr.Arkwright!" At this interruption in a woman's voice--the voice he disliked and dreaded above all others--he startled and turned to face old Madam Bowker in rustling black silk, with haughty casque of gray-white hair and ebon staff carried firmly, well forward.

Grant bowed.