"Patricia was fond of me then."
"Patricia has a good deal to think about. I do not believe she has changed to you. Is anything really the matter? If you are not well, tell me frankly."
"I'm quite well, mother."
"Then please take the notes."
Mrs. Royston left the room, and Magda stood staring out of the window—stirred uncomfortably.
No doubt it was true that she had "gone on" lately, and especially in the last fortnight, "just the same" as before Merryl's illness. She had lost sight of her remorse and her resolutions, and had again been wrapped up in her own concerns, living an idle and purposeless existence.
"This must be no empty repentance," Rob had said. "When you get back into everyday life again, don't let yourself forget."
But she had allowed herself to forget. She had been beaten again and again, in the strife between right and wrong.
She echoed her mother's sigh, and took up the second note.
It was to Mrs. Major; and strong distaste seized her. She had seen very little of Bee lately. The two had met once or twice in public; but not in private. Magda had been careful to avoid the latter. She knew that she had not been true to her friend; and she knew that Bee must know it. Frip's words could not fail to be enlightening.