He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. “It’s my fault. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not. Love!” He held her arm and abandoned it again at her quick defensive movement. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard.
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