“John,” she said, slowly, “you know why he is here.' You know that he has come to personally offer you this place; to personally receive your refusal--or consent.” She ceased to speak; there was a moment of suspense; then Loder turned. His face was still pale and grave with the gravity of a man who has but recently been close to death, but beneath the gravity was another look--the old expression of strength and self-reliance, tempered, raised, and dignified by a new humility. Moving forward, he held out his hands. “My consent or refusal,” he said, very quietly, “lies with--my wife.” End of Project Gutenberg's The Masquerader, by Katherine Cecil Thurston