It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ’ ‘How could he when he didn’t even handle it himself? Went off, I told you, and left it all to me. “I do love you. " Mr. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. ’ Roding gave a bark of derisive laughter and left the room. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. It’s no good flying out at that, Vee; I didn’t arrange it. Fas du tout.
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