“You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. " "Very true," chuckled Jackson; "very true. White?” she asked, laughing. ” “Shirts?” “Shirts at one—and—something a dozen. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture.
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