"You know I would not do that, Letty."
"I don't know what you'd do in your eternal wish to know more about people than anyone else knows."
Nan left the room with a heavy heart. Did she want to be omniscient? Was it impertinent to be surer of a man's innocence than his wife was? Well, if he were innocent, Letitia would never forgive her—that was clear.
She found Mrs. Lewis alone in an upper room. She was standing looking out the window, her arms folded, her body tilted slightly backward, while she crooned sadly to herself. As Nan entered she shook her head slowly at her.
"The poor child," she said.
"Roger or Letty?"
"Oh, both; but, of course, I was thinking of my own."
"Mrs. Lewis, do you believe he's guilty?"
"No, my dear—nor innocent. I don't believe anything. I simply don't know. When you get to be my age, Nan, you will understand that anything is possible; the wicked do the most splendid things at times, and the virtuous do the most awful. I don't know whether Roger did this or not. He may have. It may even have been the right thing to do, although poison—well, I'm surprised Roger descended to that."
With this point of view Nan had some sympathy, although she felt obliged to protest a little.