I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. The dismal tolling of St. "Nothing!" echoed the other, scornfully. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. She had money of her own—much more than I have—and there was no need to squabble about that. “If I do,” he said. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers.
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