was happy out here and I need never to reproach myself for anything I did while he was alive. He always belonged to me and as I've often told him, before he passed away, that counts for more than all the banns and marriage certificates in the world. That's why I didn't mind his paying you a brief visit. I knew he'd come back to me.
"Well, I can't think of any more that ought to be said. He often spoke of you kindly. The worst he ever said was, 'Em had an unfortunate temperament.' I think that was how he put it. He was embalmed on ship, and at his funeral looked very natural. He was a remarkable young-looking man for his age. Well, I will stop now.
"Yours respectively,
"Dora Downes.
"(Mrs. Jason Downes.)
"Postscriptum. The picture is good of all except me and Emma. I never did photograph well. It was a thing Jason always said—that photographs never did me justice."
When she had finished reading, Emma took up the postcard and looked again at the three strapping sons and the two robust daughters, but her chief interest lay in the figure of Dora Downes (Mrs. Jason Downes!) She was a healthy, rather plain woman, with an enormous shelflike bosom on which her fat double chin appeared to rest. Beside her, Jason appeared, small and dapper and insignificant, like a male spider beside the female who devours her mate after he has filled Nature's demands.
