The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding.
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