His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. It slid off flimsily. Montressor’s guests. Me, you may have. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. . It was open. Unbelievable the pranks that she pulled—-you should have told me! I told her to leave you 157 the hell alone or she would be dealing with me next, I dropped a hint about telling her parents about her in detail. She went on from street to street, and all the glory of London had departed. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself.
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