"And you hoped it wasn't true, perhaps?"
"No; I hadn't any hope. I knew it was true. Karen had said things to me that made it nothing of a surprise. But perhaps my idea was that she would be sorry for what she had done and write to me, or to you. I think I wanted to give Karen time."
"Well, and then?" Mrs. Talcott asked. "If she had written?"
"Well, then, I'd have gone to her."
"You'd have taken her back?"
"If she would have come, of course," said Gregory, in his voice of wraith-like gentleness.
"You wanted her back if she'd gone off with another man like that and didn't love you any more?"
Gregory was silent for a moment and she saw that her persistence troubled and perplexed him.
"As to love," he said, "Karen was a child in some things. I believe that she would have grown to love me if her guardian hadn't come between us. And it might have been to escape from her guardian as well as with the idea of freeing herself from me that she took refuge with this man. I am convinced that her guardian behaved badly to her. It's rather difficult for me to talk to you, Mrs. Talcott," said Gregory, "though I am grateful for your kindness, because I so inexpressibly detest a person whom you care for."
"Mr. Jardine," said Mrs. Talcott, fixing her eyes upon him, "I want to say something right here, so as there shan't be any mistake about it. You were right about Mercedes, all along; do you take that in? I don't want to say any more about Mercedes than I've got to; I've cut loose from my moorings, but I guess I do care more about Mercedes than anyone's ever done who's known her as well as I do. But you were right about her. And I'm your friend and I'm Karen's friend, and it pretty near killed me when all this happened."