"I guess who you mean," rejoined Shotbolt. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. “What I am after is that beauty isn’t a special inserted sort of thing; that’s my idea. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. I have hurt and snubbed poor Teddy. “I regret that you should ever have proposed it,” he went on. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant.
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