She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. For the present the desire to fly was gone. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. ’ ‘Don’t tell me,’ exploded his second-in-command. "Go to your own room, woman, directly, or I'll make you!" "Make me!" echoed Mrs.
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