If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. Then she called a hansom and drove home. Surely his calculated desire to sit near her meant that his attention had surely been brought from its normal diversions into her realm. With some difficulty, they managed to negotiate the passage with their burden and carry him out into the library. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. " "Mr. Edgeworth Bess, who passed for Sheppard's wife, was secured.
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