It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. ’ She let out a peal of laughter. His brows drew a little nearer together. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed. I declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. \"Is there something desperately wrong with your house?\" \"There is nothing wrong with our house. He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said.
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