“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. “I don’t understand. “I am sorry that I have murdered you. The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me. With this she now entered. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. By and by she heard the screen door. ” “But—This bolt from the blue! My God! Ann Veronica, you don’t understand. " When the doctor entered the bedroom and looked into the faces of the culprits, he laughed brokenly. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph.
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