“I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. I am your husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. " "Bah!" ejaculated Marvel, gruffly. ” “It isn’t exactly that,” Anna answered, “but to tell you the truth, I cannot bear to look upon myself as a rank failure. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen.
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