sardonic look--a purely physical effect of the disease; but it seemed to
the two spectators that this mean and disappointed slave of a miserly
habit had by one superb imaginative effort realized the full vanity of
all human wishes and pretensions.

'Ye can go; I shan't want ye,' said Mr. Baines, returning to the clerk.

The lawyer never spoke of that night's business. Why should he? To what
end? Mark Beechinor, under the old will, inherited the seven hundred
pounds and the house. Miss Mellor of Hanbridge is still Miss Mellor, her
hand not having been formally sought. But Mark, secretary of the Labour
Church, is married. Miss Mellor, with a quite pardonable air of tolerant
superiority, refers to his wife as 'a strange, timid little
creature--she couldn't say Bo to a goose.'

* * * * *




THE DOG


This is a scandalous story. It scandalized the best people in Bursley;
some of them would wish it forgotten. But since I have begun to tell it
I may as well finish. Moreover, like most tales whispered behind fans
and across club-tables, it carries a high and valuable moral. The
moral--I will let you have it at once--is that those who love in glass
houses should pull down the blinds.