the steam radiator stood like a
skeleton. There was a grate in the room, with a Cumberland coal fire
laid. On the wall hung a map of the State, and another setting forth
the proportions of a great Western railroad. At the extreme end of the
room stood chairs and settees provided for auctions. Between myself
and these, the high, guarded public desk of the broker rose like a
rampart.

In this sombre and severe place I now abandoned myself to my thoughts;
and these gave me no mercy.

My wife was a reasonable woman; but she was a loving and sensitive one.
I was accustomed to spare her all unnecessary uncertainty as to my
movements--being more careful in this respect, perhaps, than most
physicians would be; our profession covers a multitude of little
domestic sins. I had not taken the ground that I was never to be
expected till I came. A system of affectionate communication as to my
whereabouts existed between us; it was one of the pleasant customs of
our honeymoon which had lasted over. The telegraph and the messenger
boy we had always with us; it was a little matter for a man to take the
trouble to tell his wife why and where he was kept away all night. I
do not remember that I had ever failed to do so. It was a bother
sometimes, I admit, but the pleasure it gave her usually repaid me;
such is the small, sweet coin of daily love.

As I sat there at the broker's desk, like a creature in a trap, all
that long and wretched night, the image of my wife seemed to devour my
brain and my reason.

The great clock on the neighbouring church struck one with a heavy and
a solemn intonation, of which I can only say that it was to me unlike
anything I had ever heard before. It gave me a shudder to hear it, as
if I listened to some supernatural thing. The first hour of the new
day rang like a long cry. Some freak of association brought to my mind
that angel in the Apocalypse who proclaimed with a mighty voice that
Time should be no more. I caught myself thinking this preposterous
thing: Suppose it were all over? Suppose we never saw each other
again? Suppose my wife were to die? To-night? Suppose some accident
befell her? If she tripped upstairs? If the child's crib took fire
and she put it out, and herself received one of those deadly shocks
from burns not in themselves mortal?

Suppose--she herself opening the door to let in the messenger expected
from me--that some drunken fellow, or some tramp--

"This," I