“Yes, Herman!”
The man started. Something in the tone of Mrs. Lambert’s voice, as she uttered the name, sent a pang through his whole system. Still he seemed calm, and his voice changed but little when he spoke again.
“Is there anything you wish to tell me?”
Ross asked this question earnestly, and his eyes dwelt on the troubled face of the woman with almost imploring earnestness.
“Anything I wish to tell?” repeated the lady, with a startled look. “What could I have, that you do not already know? I—I wished rather to ask a question?”
“Well, I am here and have nothing to conceal.”
“Ah! how coldly you speak, Herman!”
“How else should I speak, Mrs. Lambert?”
“I do not know—I ought not to care; but I do—I do!”
The woman spoke with anguish; she did not weep, but there was something more thrilling than tears in her voice.