His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. ’ ‘What husband?’ ‘Precisely. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a favour.
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