My late husband, I mean. Her soul was full of the sense of disaster. Why would militia be infesting the place? And he must by now be aware of my interest. "Call as you please, beloved girl," he cried, "I will not stir till I am answered. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something.
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