Page:The Good Soldier (1915).pdf/124

 Rh the morning. In my house at Ledbury. You saw her recognise me." He was standing on his feet, looking down at me. I don't know what I looked like. At any rate, he gave a sort of gurgle and then stuttered:

"Oh, I say . . ." Those were the last words I ever heard of Mr. Bagshawe's. A long time afterwards I pulled myself out of the lounge and went up to Florence's room. She had not locked the door—for the first night of our married life. She was lying, quite respectably arranged, unlike Mrs. Maidan, on her bed. She had a little phial that rightly should have contained nitrate of amyl, in her right hand. That was on the fourth of August, 1913.