"I must ask; I must know. Only you can tell me. Yes, sit down, if you like. I am so sorry. This worry is bad for you, and makes your head ache, does it not? But how can I wait? I have only you now—no one else!" She took a seat beside him, and put back the hair from his brow with her cold fingers and her sweet motherly air. "It is hard, I know—everything coming upon you; and you are so good to me. Only—think!—he is my husband!" She did not say "was." "He is my husband, and I have the first right to know all. Tell me plainly, is he—was he—has he been in any way to blame?"
"He will be blamed," Nigel said hoarsely.
"Why should he?"
"Fulvia's money—"
"Yes,—Fulvia's money—?"
"It has been—used."
"How?"
"Different ways."
"You don't know how?"
"He always hoped to repay; he did not intend—"