Or, he must approach Corkey on the subject of his scheme of reunion.

This morning, washing the windows of the drug-store, the proprietor
revolves the problems of his existence.

"Time is passing," he groans; "too much time."

The gossip of the store deals often with Dr. Tarpion. Dr. Tarpion is
gradually arousing the jealousy of the husband. The burning of the
consolatory letters was a dreadful repulse of the lover's siege.

The druggist has scrubbed the windows with the brush. He is drying
them with the rubber wiper. He stamps the pole on the sidewalk. He
does not want to be jealous, but time is going by--time is going by.
That Tarpion! It would be hard! It would be hard!

A new thought comes. The disfigured face grows malicious.

"It would be bigamy! Ha!"

David Lockwin has fallen upon a low place. But he would perish if
jealousy must be added.

"Corkey's plan is a good one, but why does he not push it faster? And
Corkey has not spoken of the matter for three weeks. One night he said
he would soon be 'where he could talk.'"

The prescription clerk is very busy. A customer wants a cigar. The
druggist goes in to make a profit of three and a half cents. He
returns to his window, wets it once more, begins the wiping, and is