“Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. It was filled with sopping lichens and green benches too slimy to sit upon. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. ” There was silence between them. There was nothing to be learned from her face. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. Knap. " "I'll tell you what. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. " "Not utterly," rejoined the other.
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