He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. Stanley was throughout enigmatical, with an anxious eye on her husband and Alice. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. Her thoughts took words for themselves.
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