“I wonder if it is. And the woollen-draper departed. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. “I have come to tell you this. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Stanley, “I am anxious. But at the same time, I must say plainly that I think your presence here just now would be a great misfortune.
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