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cry of delight. To him, of course, she had left nothing in particular, unless it were her diary. Fifteen little volumes, bound in green leather, stood behind him on her writing table. Ever since they were married, she had kept a diary. Some of their very few ¡ª he could not call them quarrels, say tiffs ¡ª had been about that diary. When he came in and found her writing, she always shut it or put her hand over it. ¡°No, no, no,¡± he could hear her say, ¡°After I¡¯m dead ¡ª perhaps.¡± So she had left it him, as her legacy. It was the only thing they had not shared when she was alive. But he had always taken it for granted that she would outlive him. If only she had stopped one moment, and had thought what she was doing, she would be alive now. But she had stepped straight off the kerb, the driver of the car had said at the inquest. She had given him no chance to pull up. . . . Here the sound of voices in the hall interrupted him. ¡°Miss Miller, Sir,¡± said the maid. She came in. He had never seen her alone in his life, nor, of course, in tears. She was terribly distressed, and no wonder. Angela had been much more to her than an employer. She had been a friend. To hims. Air Max 90 UK elf, he thought, as he pushed a chair for her and asked her to sit down, she was scarcely distinguishable from any other woman of her kind. There were thousands of Sissy Millers ¡ª drab little women in black carrying attache cases. But Angela, with her genius for sympathy, had discovered all sorts of qualities in Sissy Miller. She was the soul of discretion; so silent; so trustworthy, one could tell her anything, and so on. Miss Miller could not speak at first. She sat there dabbing her eyes with her pocket handkerchief. Then she made an effort. ¡°Pardon me, Mr. Clandon,¡± she said. He murmured. Of course he understood. It was only natural. He could guess what his wife had meant to her. ¡°I¡¯ve been so happy here,¡± she said, looking round. Her eyes rested on the writing table behind him. It was here they had worked ¡ª she and Angela. For Angela had her share of the duties that fall to the lot of a prominent politician¡¯s wife. She had been the greatest help to him in his career. He had often seen her and Sissy sitting at that table ¡ª Sissy at the typewriter, taking down letters from her dictation. No doubt Miss . Womens Air Max 90 VT Miller was thinking of that, too. Now all he had to do was to give her the brooch his wife had left her. A rather incongruous gift it seemed. It might have been better to have left her a sum of money, or even the typewriter. But there it was ¡ª¡°For Sissy Miller, with my love.¡± And, taking the brooch, he gave it her with the little speech that he had prepared. He knew, he said, that she would value it. His wife had often worn it. . . . And she replied, as she took it almost as if she too had prepared a speech, that it would always be a treasured possession. . . . She had, he supposed, other clothes upon which a pearl brooch would not look quite so incongruous. She was wearing the little black coat and skirt that seemed the uniform of her profession. Then he remembered ¡ª she was in mourning, of course. She, too, had had her tragedy ¡ª a brother, to who m she was devoted, had died only a week or two before Angela. In some accident was it He could not remember ¡ª only Angela telling him. Angela, with her genius for sympathy, had been terribly upset. Meanwhile Sissy Miller had risen. She was putting on her gloves. Evidently she felt that she ought not to intrude. But he could not let her go without saying something