Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief. Ogilvy was full of a client’s trouble in that matter, a grave and even tragic trouble. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. In their happiest times, he was the most faithful and devoted of husbands. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. I bent over him. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones.
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