“Just think about what you are asking, John, please. It is better to face the truth. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. ’ The snaking suspicion rolled through his mind again. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head.
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