“MARIAN.”
“P.S. I have just learnt from a very severe criticism in one of the papers that Mdlle. Lalage Virtue has failed here completely. I fear from the wording that her unfortunate habit was apparent to the audience.”
CHAPTER XIX
On a cold afternoon in January, Sholto Douglas entered a hold in New York, and ascended to a room on the first floor. Marian was sitting there, thinking, with a letter in her lap, She only looked up for a moment when he entered; and he plucked off his sealskin gloves and threw aside his overcoat in silence.
“It is an infernal day,” he said presently.
Marian sighed, and roused herself. “The rooms look cheerless in winter without the open fireplaces we are accustomed to in England.”
“Damn the rooms!” he muttered.
Marian took up her letter again.
“Do you know that he has filed a petition for divorce?” he said, aggressively.
“Yes.”