Jack turned away with an aching heart. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. “I’ll ruin your suit. You will make him get his daughter, if you please. Melusine gave herself a little mental shake. His favorite newspaper was the Times, which he began at breakfast in the morning often with manifest irritation, and carried off to finish in the train, leaving no other paper at home. Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows.
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