THE FRUIT OF THE TREE
But Bessy had opened the door of her dressing-room. “I much prefer that you should do what you like,” she said as she passed from the room.
Amherst made no farther attempt to detain her, and the door closed on her as though it were closing on a chapter in their lives.
“That’s the end of it!” he murmured, picking up the letter-opener she had been playing with, and twirling it absently in his fingers. But nothing in life ever ends, and the next moment a new question confronted him—how was the next chapter to open?
[ 291 ]
