I was his wife. “No, it was simple. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,—"Mr. " "Well, Sir," gasped Mrs.
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