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’ Mrs Sindlesham laughed lightly, but her eyes quizzed him. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. But the lady was not so easily won; and though she did not absolutely reject him, gave him very slight hopes. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered.
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