She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. "You'll pardon an old woman, Miss Enschede," said Sister Prudence; "but where in this world did you get that dress?" Ruth picked up both sides of the skirt and spread it, looking down.
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