Sir Oswald opened the door, and admitted the captain, who pushed his chair dexterously through the doorway.
"Well," said this eccentric visitor, when Sir Oswald had shut the door, "so you've not been to bed all night?"
"How do you know that?"
"By your looks, for one thing: and by the appearance of your bed, which I can see through the open door yonder, for another. Pretty goings on, these!"
"A heavy sorrow has fallen upon me, Copplestone."
"Your wife has run away—that's what you mean, I suppose?"
"What!" cried Sir Oswald. "It is all known, then?"
"What is all known?"
"That my wife has left me."
"Well, my dear Oswald, there is a rumour of that kind afloat, and I have come here in consequence of that rumour. But I don't believe there's a word of truth in it."