He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. ‘But if you must fight so furiously, I don’t see how I can promise not to do it again.
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