CHAPTER XVI. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. Other things came. McClintock never threw away any advertising matter; in fact, he openly courted pamphlets; and they came from automobile dealers and great mail-order houses, from haberdashers and tailors and manufacturers of hair-tonics, razors, gloves, shoes, open plumbing.
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