I am going to smoke a little here, and then I shall go to the study. I told you no good would come of it. Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. She could not see any relief from this anxiety except repayment, and repayment seemed impossible. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner.
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