room, and came back to the same place; holding the chair with a grasp that trembled, like his subdued voice, in its earnestness.

‘I regarded myself as a refuge, for her, from the dangers and vicissitudes of life. I persuaded myself that, unequal though we were in years, she would live tranquilly and contentedly with me. I did not shut out of my consideration the time when I should leave her free, and still young and still beautiful, but with her judgement more matured — no, gentlemen — upon my truth!’

His homely figure seemed to be lightened up by his fidelity and generosity. Every word he uttered had a force that no other grace could have imparted to it.

‘My life with this lady has been very happy. Until tonight, I have had