“Have you seen her, Philip?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I had decided to keep the memory I have of her unchanged. It is as I saw her when they were married. She was so happy, poor little thing!”
“There is more than happiness in her face now,” Perkins observed thoughtfully. “Do you believe in a hereafter?”
“What odds can it be? It's in the present our lot is cast.”
“Don't you like to think you are destined to meet those you love again?”
Philip placed his hand irresolutely upon the knob.
“I shall go in. Perhaps I shall be able to determine what I do believe.”
As he entered the room, a rush of cold air met him, for the windows were partially raised—the outer shutters only being closed. The dim light filled the apartment with shadowy indistinctness.