” Anna hesitated, and then held out the letter. " "Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. ’ ‘We had other matters on hand this morning,’ Roding told him sharply. . But for him she might have been alive and happy. ‘You said—who?’ ‘Remenham. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. To prevent the leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed paper weights. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria.
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