” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. The last few months had not dealt kindly with Mr. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. 104 < 14 > THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF JOSEPH R. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. ’ ‘Gracious heaven, Gerald! If your dear mama could not drag you to the altar, I am hardly likely to succeed.
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