Her heartbeat quickened. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. She stared at him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her.
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