“You are afraid,” she said, “that the young man who thinks that he is my husband has upset me. "Mr. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. " This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still in the realm of strange fancies. “You’re burning up. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. “It’s—private. ” “It is odd that this man at the hospital should call himself Meysey Hill,” she remarked. Then he understood. She went into shock. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy.
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