She sat in that chair opposite--where Tyson was sitting now.
She said unspeakable things that were by no means pleasant for Stanistreet to hear.

It had required all his tact to break the news of Tyson's marriage and take her home in a cab.

He could see her now, in her pitiful finery, sitting back, trying to hide her white face with gloves that were anything but white.
But Tyson was not thinking of Mrs.Hathaway.
"I mean that baby--Molly--my wife.

That was the wickedest, cruellest thing I ever did in the whole course of my abominable life.

I might have known how it would end." Stanistreet looked thoughtfully at his friend.