... "Has the sister arrived?" ... I found it difficult to make myself heard. My voice was dry and grated harshly....
"Yes, she's here; they're on the floor below." Will poured a glass of water and handed it me. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and waited. It was his turn to be silent. He seemed to have talked himself out....
"Which of them is it?... Do I know her?"
"Yes; we had dinner at her house one Sunday night."
"Blonde?"
"Um—yes...."
"Art's triumph over Nature, I suppose." ... I could not resist the thrust ... suddenly I sat bolt upright.
"Will ... Will.... Not—Mrs F.—not the woman with the two little girls ... not the mother of those children...."
He nodded and raised his shoulders with a gesture which was half deploring, half deprecating.
"O!!!...." I covered my face with my hands ... the picture was too revolting.... "Children don't cut much ice," the doctor had said. I stopped up my ears to shut out his voice....