"
Marsham nodded.
"Altogether, an excellent _parti_."
Alicia's infectious laugh broke out. She sat down beside him, with her
hands round her knees.
"You look miles better than when you came in. But I think--you'd better
go to bed."
* * * * *
As Marsham, in undressing, flung his coat upon a chair, the copy of the
_Herald_ which he had momentarily forgotten fell out of the inner
pocket. He raised it--irresolute. Should he tear it up, and throw the
fragments away?
No. He could not bring himself to do it. It was as though Ferrier, lying
still and cold at Lytchett, would know of it--as though the act would do
some roughness to the dead.
He went into his sitting-room, found an empty drawer in his
writing-table, thrust in the newspaper, and closed the drawer.
CHAPTER XX
"I regard this second appeal to West Brookshire as an insult!" said the
Vicar of Beechcote, hotly. "If Mr. Marsham must needs accept an office
that involved re-election he might have gone elsewhere. I see there is
already a vacancy by death--and a Liberal seat, too--in Sussex. _We_
told him pretty plainly what we thought of him last time.
Pages:
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582