Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. 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. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear.
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