” Part 9 She was sitting brooding over her fire about ten o’clock that night when a sealed and registered envelope was brought up to her. "I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. C.
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