“I don’t remember. But go on.”
“He was in the Gunners. He went out to France in 1914, and was home on sick leave when we were married. He used to be rather fond of me, I believe.”
Henry’s mouth opened. He stared at his wife in astonishment.
“Really, Cora——” he began, but she went on without heeding him.
“I heard not so long ago that he had got into rather a bad set. Somebody told me that the things he had seen out in France seemed to have unsettled his brain—I know that happened in other cases too. But he was a man who would never, I am quite sure, have done anything dishonorable. Oh, I wish I knew,” she exclaimed, carried away by a sudden emotion. “I do wish I knew what made him kill himself!”
“I wouldn’t worry about him, my dear Cora, if I were you,” her husband remarked coldly. “Probably he was mentally unsound, mad—‘potty’ as the boys say, Those scenes in the trenches must have been extremely trying. And yet—had I been younger and able to join the colors——”
He stopped and stared. Cora, lying back on the settee, was laughing hysterically.
CHAPTER II.
HUSBAND, WIFE—AND ANOTHER.
Cora Hartsilver was preparing to go out next morning, when she was told that “Miss Yootha Hagerston would like to see her.”