"I knew that he would do just that!"
Mrs. Dround threw back her coat and looked up with a mischievous smile on her face. She was a very handsome woman these days, not a month older than when I saw her first. She had reached that point where Nature, having done her best for a woman, pauses before beginning the work of destruction.
She had come this afternoon to call on Sarah, and, having failed to find her at home, was writing a note at her desk, when I came in from the day's business, a little earlier than was my wont.
"It isn't just that matter of the injunction. You know, my friend, people here in the city—Henry's friends—say that you are engaged in dangerous enterprises—that you are a desperate man yourself! Are you?"
"You know better than most!" I answered lightly. "But I am getting tired of all this talk. I had a dose of it in the family the last time."
She nodded as I briefly related what had happened with Will and May.
"And, of course, Sarah feels pretty badly," I concluded.
"Poor child!" she murmured. "I wondered what was the matter with her these days. She will feel differently later. But your brother, that is another question."
"He and his wife will never feel differently."
She tossed aside the pen she held and rose to her feet.