E. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. ‘So it is that you could not help it. She too had seen. Now how in the world was he to get rid of the husband? His luck was in. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. Lucy sized up the girl. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. “Mr. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. “I had to. ” “I am going to ask more than a favour,” she said slowly. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls.
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