Once in a while I understand there is a faint glow among the embers, and a trace of his old-time spirit flashes up, though it is gone almost as quickly.
That must have been the case the evening I was there.
Henry had been reading the evening paper, where many black headlines announced the exciting events of the day.
"One wife too many," I heard her say, sarcastically; "that must of course refer to the doings of another rascally bigamist."
"Not necessarily, my dear," returned Henry, without daring to take his eyes off the paper.
I held my very breath with awe.
But Mrs. Badger, after shooting him one quick look, probably decided that it was a blank cartridge.
Badger, when her back was turned, actually gave me a wicked wink behind his paper.
On the whole, I guess there's a little of the old spunk left, but it will never set the river afire.