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Updated: June 26, 2025
She had married him, lived with him for nearly a year. To the Jetsons she had given the impression of being a woman deeply in love with her husband. It could not have been mere acting kept up day after day. "There was something else." We were discussing the case in my friend's chambers. His brief of eleven years ago was open before him.
The incident had puzzled the Jetsons, especially that involuntary flash of contempt that had come into Mrs. Hepworth's eyes. She had always appeared to adore her husband, and of the two, if possible, to be the one most in love with the other. They had no friends or acquaintances except the Jetsons.
They described him though that, of course, was after the event as having left upon them the impression of a haunted man. There was one occasion in particular. It was about ten o'clock. The Jetsons had been spending the evening with the Hepworths, and were just on the point of leaving, when there came a sudden, clear knock at the door.
He had turned a look towards his wife that was almost of despair; and it had seemed to the Jetsons or, talking it over afterwards, they may have suggested the idea to each other that there came a flash of contempt into her eyes, though it yielded the next instant to an expression of pity.
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