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 saying in a voice of suppressed passion, “but you knew me better than to think I would abandon it.”

“I wish God had struck you dead,” ats cried vehemently.

“No doubt; but you see He hasn’t. Part of that inscrutability, I imagine, which has puz- zled the sages of all time. You look extremely well, though. Things have been going smooth- ly here with our friend Vermont?’ He turned with a bitter smile as he addressed his host: “This, I presume, is the wife of which you spoke? Curious, that, because she is also my wife.”

The man was now apparently more cool and composed than he had been during the whole of the interview, and Carey Vermont turned to him with a look in which alarm and amaze- ment were expressed in unmistakable terms.

“Your wife?” he repeated incredulously.

“T sustain that honour with much difficulty.”

“Andromeda!” He turned appealingly to her.

“God help me,” she answered bitterly.

“He seems to have helped you in strict ac- cordance with your many merits,” sneered