The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. ‘There are no Remenhams left. But I’m going to-day. She was recalling the circumstances under which she had engaged herself to Manning, and trying to understand a curious development of the quality of this relationship. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. “In any case, I decline to see you alone. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you.
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