ore, he declared; it was too much of a good
thing for him; he would wash his hands of her, if he never got hold of
another--and so on. I daresay he would have chucked her, only--it may
surprise you--his missus wouldn't hear of it. Funny, eh? But with women,
you never know how they will take a thing, and Mrs. Colchester, with her
moustaches and big eyebrows, set up for being as strong-minded as they
make them. She used to walk about in a brown silk dress, with a great
gold cable flopping about her bosom. You should have heard her snapping
out: 'Rubbish!' or 'Stuff and nonsense!' I daresay she knew when she was
well off. They had no children, and had never set up a home anywhere.
When in England she just made shift to hang out anyhow in some cheap
hotel or boarding-house. I daresay she liked to get back to the comforts
she was used to. She knew very well she couldn't gain by any change.
And, moreover, Colchester, though a first-rate man, was not what you
may call in his first youth, and, perhaps, she may have thought that he
wouldn't be able to get hold of another (as he used to say) so easily.
Anyhow, for one reason or another, it was 'Rubbish' and 'Stuff and
nonsense' for the good lady. I overheard once young Mr. Apse himself say
to her confidentially: 'I assure you, Mrs. Colchester, I am beginning to
feel quite unhappy about the name she's getting for herself.' 'Oh,' says
she, with her deep little hoarse laugh, 'if one took notice of all the
silly talk,' and she showed Apse all her ugly false teeth at once. 'It
would take more than that to make me lose my confidence in her, I assure
you,' says she."

At this point, without any change of facial expression, Mr. Stonor
emitted a short, sardonic laugh. It was very impressive, but I didn't
see the fun. I looked from one to another. The stranger on the hearthrug
had an ugly smile.

"And Mr. Apse shook both Mrs. Colchester's hands, he was so pleased to
hear a good word said for their favourite. All these Apses, young
and old you know, were perfectly infatuated with that abominable,
dangerous--"

"I beg your pardon," I interrupted, for he seemed to be addressing
himself exclusively to me; "but who on earth are you talking about?"

"I am talking of the Apse family," he answered, courteously.

I nearly let out a damn at this. But just then the respected Miss Blank
put her head in, and said that the cab was at the door, if Mr. Stonor
wanted to catch the eleven three up.

A