Wanning strolled aimlessly after her into the reception room.
“I think he is just right for it, Florence,” put in Mrs. Wanning.
Wanning lingered behind his wife, looking at her in the mirror.
When the maid appeared at the door, Wanning went out through the bathroom to his own sleeping chamber.
When Wanning went down to dinner he found his wife already at her chair, and the table laid for four.
They had been rushed, time and again, and Mrs. Wanning had repeatedly steeled herself to bear the blow.
Wanning rose and walked aimlessly down the hall and out through the dining-room.
When he went anywhere with his three ladies, Wanning always felt very well done by.
It was a satisfaction to Wanning to name the organ that had betrayed him, while all the rest of him was so sound.
Wanning leaned against the china closet and talked to Sam for nearly half an hour.