“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. I am very good at guessing names. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due. ” She glanced at him, and it was suddenly apparent for one instant of illumination that this ring upon her finger was the crowning blunder of her life. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. So she married him.
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