“Well, no,” she answered. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop.
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