th.

"But for her," she continued, smiling archly, "I should perhaps not
have married you. I was with doubts about myself and about you. Then I
went to Mrs. Quarrier, and--what a thing to do!--asked her what she
thought of you! She told me, and I came away without a doubt
left.--That's why I cried so much when we heard of her death. I should
have told you then if you hadn't got vexed with me--I'm sure I don't
know why."

Glazzard laughed, and dismissed the subject carelessly.

Not long after, he was alone. After much pacing about the room, he came
to a stand before his clay masterpiece, and stared at it as though the
dull eyes fascinated him. Of a sudden he raised his fist and with one
blow beat the head into a shapeless mass.

Then he went out, locking the door behind him.

On leaving the Glazzards, Quarrier pursued the important business that
had brought him into this part of London. He drove to a hospital, newly
opened, with which he was connected in the capacity of treasurer. Talk
with the secretary occupied him for half an hour; about to set forth
again, he encountered on the staircase two ladies, the one a hospital
nurse, the other Mrs. Wade.

"Could you grant me five minutes?" asked the widow, earnestly. "I
didn't hope to see you here, and must have called upon you--but you are
so busy."

There was a humility in her suppressed voice which, had the speaker
been another person, would have prepared Denzil for some mendicant
petition of the politer kind. She spoke hurriedly, as if fearing a
rebuff.

"Let us step this way," he said, opening a door which led into an
unoccupied room.

Mrs. Wade was dressed rather more simply than had been her wont when
she lived at Polterham. One conjectured that her circumstances were not
improved. She looked tired, harassed; her eyes wanted something of
their former brightness, and she had the appearance of a much older
woman.

There were no seats in the room. Quarrier did not refer to the fact,
but stood in an attitude of friendly attention.

"I saw Northway yesterday," Mrs. Wade began.

The listener's face expressed annoyance.

"Need we speak of him?" he said, briefly.

"I am obliged to. He told me something which I had long
suspected--something you certainly must learn."

"Is it a fresh attack on my pocket?" asked Denzil, with resignation.

"No, but something that will grieve you far more. I have been trying
for a long time to get it out of him, and now that I