The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. You are my wife now and you belong to me. The Bed Room 400 XIX. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. In the sixth center row sat an unexpected guest, his Classical Greek features stark in the yellow half light. When younger, and in better health, she must have been eminently lovely; and there were still the remains of great beauty about her. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing.
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