What might it have been?’ Mrs Sindlesham shook her head helplessly. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. " "You are very kind, Sir," returned the widow, "but I require no support. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously. Her normally shiny hair was 143 stringy and flat. A skeleton was propped against the mantelpiece. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. After a series of mental gymnastics—occupying the space of a few seconds—it came to him with a shock that here was a new specimen of the species. The day had become suddenly overcast. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down.
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