“I love you, you know. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. But they been good to me, they have, sir. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. “She must be warned. However good you were to me, and however happy I was in other ways, I should find this intolerable. ‘Certainly you are imbecile.
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