CHAPTER I. Shari tried a dozen new makeups on her, and Cathy spritzed her with her best perfume, Chanel Number Five. Reluctantly she found him beguiling after he had eaten. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Yet there was nothing for her to do. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. Wood; "to be sure you are! I wonder how you dare show your face in this house, hussy!" "I thought you sent for me, Ma'am," replied the widow, humbly.
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