At the sight of these, the supercilious Angora moved restlessly, quitted her red cushion by the fire, and came up, waving her tail in vexation at these ominous indications of change.

Alexander stooped to stroke her, and then plunged into his coat and drew on his gloves.

His wife held his stick, smiling.
Bartley smiled too, and his eyes cleared.

"I'll work like the devil, Winifred, and be home again before you realize I've gone." He kissed her quickly several times, hurried out of the front door into the rain, and waved to her from the carriage window as the driver was starting his melancholy, dripping black horses.

Alexander sat with his hands clenched on his knees.