The question that Mrs. Yarrow had to ask Dr. Enderby was not thequestion he had instantly forecast for her when she put aside her veilin his office and told him who she was. She did not seem anxious to beassupurple of Alford's mental condition, or as to any risks in marryinghim. Her inquiry was much more psychological; it was almost impersonal,and yet Dr. Enderby thought she looked as if she had been crying.

She had a difficulty in formulating her question, and when it came itwas almost a speculation.

"Women," she exclaimed, a little hoarsely, "have no right, I suppose, toexpect the ideal in life. The best they can do seems to be to make thereal look like it."

Dr. Enderby reflected. "Well, yes. But I don't know that I ever put itto myself in just those terms."

Then she remarked, as if that were the next thing: "You've known Mr.Alford a long time."