" "The Tigress!" The doctor laughed. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart. ’ ‘What husband?’ ‘Precisely. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black.
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