are!" he exclaimed. Some men would have offered their thanks to God, or
to "Heaven." Annesley noticed that he praised his "star."

This was one of many disquieting things, large and small; for she had
been brought up to be a religious girl, and was mentally on her knees
before God in gratitude for the happiness which illuminated her gray
life. She could not bear to think that God was nothing to the man who had
become everything to her. She wanted to shut her eyes to all that was
strange in him; but it was as difficult as for Psyche to resist lighting
the lantern for a peep at her mysterious husband in his sleep.

For instance, there was the Countess de Santiago's reference to their
association on board the _Monarchic_, which Knight had refrained from
mentioning. He had spoken of it after the Countess had gone, to be sure;
but briefly, and because it would have seemed odd if he had not done so.
It had struck Annesley that his annoyance with the lady was connected
with that sharp little "dig" of hers, and she could not sweep her mind
clean of curiosity.

The moment the _Monarchic's_ name was brought up she remembered reading
a newspaper paragraph about the last voyage of that great ship from New
York to Liverpool. Fortunately or unfortunately, her recollection of the
paragraph was nebulous, for when she read news aloud to her mistress she
permitted her mind to wander, unless the subject happened to be
interesting. She tried to keep up a vaguely intelligent knowledge of
world politics, but small events and blatant sensations, such as murders,
burglaries, and "society" divorces, she quickly erased from her brain.

Something dramatic had occurred on the _Monarchic_. Her subconscious self
recalled that. But it was less than a month ago that she had read the