He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. And what did she do? Not only did she cut his hand in her rage, but she refused to let him help her, and then she ran away from him. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. "Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland.
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