“It isn’t fair. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. " "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. We were hunting and were separated from the rest of the hunters, so I said, ‘There are ways for a man to escape his wife where no one is harmed. ’ Her face fell. A fortnight passed, then a month. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. You have misunderstood.
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