CHAPTER XXIII
When, acting under his wife's most explicit instructions, Tydvil had dressed early that evening, he found Amy was earlier, and was awaiting his arrival in the drawing-room. As he caught sight of her, Tydvil's eyes opened widely. Never since he had known her had Amy worn anything but some shade of grey. Amy appeared to think it was the chosen colour of the virtuous--something that marked her as one apart from the world, the flesh, and the devil. Now, she was wearing mauve--mauve relieved by violet. Moreover, it was cut at the neck quite two inches lower than anything that Tydvil had even seen on her. But, even so, the strictest critic could not have classed the revelation as daring. Great as was Tydvil's surprise, it would have been greater had he known that a harried dressma
