sell, as I chose. I chose not to sell because—well, because Mrs. Whitaker begged
me not to."
"Ah!" Whitaker breathed, sitting back. "Why?"
"This was all of a year, I think, after your marriage. Mrs. Whitaker had tasted the sweets of independence and—got the habit. She had adopted a profession looked
upon with abhorrence by her family; she was succeeding in it; I may say her work was foreshadowing that extraordinary power which made her the Sara Law
whom you saw to-night. If she came forward as the widow of Hugh Whitaker, it
meant renunciation of the stage; it meant painful scenes with her family if she refused to abandon her profession; it meant the loss of liberty, of freedom of action and development, which was hers in her decent obscurity. She was
already successful in a small wa
