THE AUTHOR OF "TRIXIE"
215
"You didn't come in a motor-car just now, did you?" Mrs. Roach asked.
"No," he said; "I stopped it in the High Street and walked on. I didn't want to wake you up, my love, with the noise of a car outside your window."
"How thoughtful of you, Samson," she said. "I'm sure your presence at her bedside has been a great comfort to that poor old thing."
"Let us hope so," he said modestly. "But get back to your bed, Sophanisba. I will tell you all about it at breakfast. Meanwhile I confess that I have but one desire—to get between my sheets."
He entered his bedroom and closed the door. Three minutes later his desire was gratified.
