I said I knew he disliked and distrusted you and your work—that you shared all Russell’s opinions: he hates Russell beyond measure—and that we couldn’t possibly face a conventional marriage. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. That was an admission all right. He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning. The proposal is so far from being exorbitant, that it should be trebled if I had not a fellow-feeling in the cause.
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