Louise was the name of his second cousin, the girl who had done battle
with all her family and then run away from them to be Larrabee Harman's
wife. Remembering the stir that her application for divorce had made, I
did not understand how Harman's death could benefit her, unless George
had some reason to believe that he had made a will in her favour.
However, the remark had been made more to himself than to me and I did
not respond.

The morning papers flared once more with the name of Larrabee Harman,
and we read that there was "no hope of his surviving." Ironic phrase!
There was not a soul on earth that day who could have hoped for his
recovery, or who--for his sake--cared two straws whether he lived or
died. And the dancer had been right; one of her legs was badly broken:
she would never dance again.

Evening papers reported that Harman was "lingering." He was lingering
the next day. He was lingering the next week, and the end of a month saw
him still "lingering." Then I went down to Capri, where--for he had been
after all the merest episode to me--I was pleased to forget all about
him.




CHAPTER III


A great many people keep their friends in mind by writing to them, but
more do not; and Ward and I belong to the majority. After my departure