Instead of the joy and triumph which had filled his heart and made it young again, came remembrance of the other woman, and something else, which resembled terror and dread.

For the first time he deliberated whether he was about to do a wise thing: for the first time, the image of Ida Slome's smiling beauty, which was ever evident to his fancy, produced in him something like doubt and consternation.

He looked about the room, and remembered the old pieces of furniture which had that day been carried away.

He looked at the places where they had stood.

Then he remembered his dead wife, as he had never remembered her before, with an anguish of loss.