“About a year, isn’t it?”
“Not _about_ a year,” he said sadly. “Exactly a year—yesterday!”
Then I understood. I saw light—a regular flash of light.
“Yesterday was——?”
“The anniversary of the wedding. I’d arranged to take Mary to the
Savoy, and on to Covent Garden. She particularly wanted to hear Caruso.
I had the ticket for the box in my pocket. Do you know, all through
dinner I had a kind of rummy idea that there was something I’d
forgotten, but I couldn’t think what?”
“Till your wife mentioned it?”