"Stop that!" I felt my eyes snap with the blaze she had kindled. She snivelled and sobbed a bit, then relaxed into sullen silence.
"If your husband has employed detectives we'll have to meet the contingency by standing together. In other words we'll perjure ourselves like—perfect ladies. Mr. Hartley says—and being a man he ought to know—that no man would have the courage to tell me I was not telling the truth, even if he thought so."
"We'll never get away with it—we'll never get away with it," wailed Mrs. F.
It was the sister who spoke next.
"And suppose Frank does not show up—suppose he doesn't come at all but waits for the detectives' report and——"
"And begins action for divorce without even saying a word about it!" It was Madame who interjected this possibility. "Wouldn't that be just like him! Wouldn't that be Frank just down to the ground? Edith knows how cold-blooded he is, don't you, Edith? O, it's too awful! I never could live through such a thing! I wouldn't live! I'd kill myself—I'd throw myself into the lake! I'd——"
"Don't you think you are wearing that threat a little threadbare?" I asked quietly, henceforth addressing myself to the sister.
"In the event that your brother-in-law does not come or that we hear nothing from him, there is only one thing left: you must take your sister back to Chicago ... and I'll go with you...."
I believe my voice petered out before I completed the sentence. The idea was repugnant, but was it not all revolting in the extreme? I had given my promise to Will to "see it through" and I intended to do so to the best of my ability. Mrs. F.'s sister broke my train of thought. She stood before me with averted eyes struggling to keep back the tears, and twisting her hands nervously.
"Mrs. Hartley ... I don't want to appear maudlin ... but I think ... you understand how I feel.... It seems almost inane to say ... how much we ... appreciate what you are doing.... For my sister's sake I thank you ... I...."