“TROUSERS!” she whispered. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. " "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. ‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you.
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