"Ah, she left him! Why?"
"Why did you leave him, Electra, before he went over there? Why did you give up living in town, and simply retreat down here? You couldn't stand it. Nobody could. Tom was a bad egg, Electra. I don't need to tell you that."
"It is certainly painful for me to hear it."
"But why, why, Electra? I can't stultify myself to prove this poor girl an adventuress. I can't canonize Tom Fulton, not even if you ask me."
"There are things we need not recur to. My brother is dead," said Electra, with dignity.
"Yes. That's precisely why I am asking you to provide for his widow."
"Suppose, then, this were true. Suppose she is what you say,—don't you feel she forfeited anything by leaving him?"
"Ah, but she went back, poor girl! She went back to him when he was pretty well spent with sickness and sheer fright. Tom didn't die like a hero, Electra. Get that out of your mind."
She put up both hands in an unconsidered protest.
"Oh, what is the use!" she cried; and his heart smote him.