She noticed his hands that hung
heavily like dead fish.
After that she knew no more save that the sea seemed to rush in a
great flood, with a sudden vindictive roar, into the room.
CHAPTER IX
SOUL OF PAUL
Nothing so horrible had ever happened to Paul before, nothing . . .
He felt as though he had committed a murder; it was as though he
expected arrest and started at every knock on the door. Nothing so
horrible . . .
It was, of course, in all the Skeaton papers. At the inquest it
appeared that Mathew Cardinal had imitated the signature of a
prosperous City friend; had he not chosen his own way out he would
have discovered the arduous delights of hard labour. But he had
chosen suicide and not "while of unsound mind." Yes, the uncle of
the Rector's wife . . . Yes, The Rector's Wife's Uncle . . . Yes,
The Rector's Wife's Uncle!
Sho discovered him, bumped right into him in the dark. What a queer
story--like a novel. Oh, but she had always been queer--Trenchard
had picked her up somewhere in a London slum; well, perhaps not a
slum exactly but something very like it. Why did he marry her?
Perhaps he had to.
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