The Disguise 261 VI. ” “My wife was astounded—wounded beyond measure. “How’s Mrs. "So it appears," replied Marvel. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. What she actually wanted was the present state of affairs to continue indefinitely. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. He was not a sailor. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended.
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