“That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. She must kill this man, or kill herself. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. There are a thousand questions I'd like to ask you, but I sha'n't ask them. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. The affair was thick with sinister suggestions. “I am sorry for the way I acted, Lucy. She would have been amazed if John was even aware of any one of the incidents. Kneebone took his leave. I suppose you came right out and asked him about his family?’ ‘Nothing of the sort. ’ ‘But where? Where has he gone? Always he goes off, and he says no word to anyone.
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