She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. For it was but logical that she would seek a divorce on the ground that she had unknowingly married a fugitive from justice. After that, we'll go our several ways. I shall have no faith in future in bolts and bars. I’m glad 237 you came over. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames.
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