was not in the room. Suddenly the thought struck me that his wife must
be dead, and I--It was the worst cooked and the worst served dinner I
ever had in the club.

I tried the smoking-room. Usually the talk there is entertaining, but on
that occasion it was so frivolous that I did not remain five minutes.
In the card-room a member told me excitedly that a policeman had spoken
rudely to him; and my strange comment was:

"After all, it is a small matter."

In the library, where I had not been for years, I found two members
asleep, and, to my surprise, William on a ladder dusting books.

"You have not heard, sir?" he said, in answer to my raised eyebrows.
Descending the ladder, he whispered tragically: "It was last evening,
sir. I--I lost my head, and I--swore at a member."

I stepped back from William, and glanced apprehensively at the two
members. They still slept.

"I hardly knew," William went on, "what I was doing all day yesterday,
for I had left my wife so weakly that--"

I stamped my foot.

"I beg your pardon for speaking of her," he had the grace to say, "but
I couldn't help slipping up to the window often yesterday to look for
Jenny, and when she did come, and I saw she was crying, it--it sort
of confused me, and I didn't know right, sir, what I was doing. I hit