And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. ‘I am expecting a huge rat to emerge any second. Howard Spurlock. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. Manning,” she said, “I warned you not to idealize me. When I heard about Larry I was going 159 to call you, I was, but, well, there is no excuse, is there? I acted like I was afraid of you, afraid that I liked you, so I ignored you like a coward. Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears.
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