“How so?”
“If Evelyn is alive, and I can discover her retreat, I will urge her to go to her husband, who needs her care. You 410 know Mrs. Gerome,—she is one of your patients. Come with me, and prevail upon her to receive me.”
In her eagerness she laid her hand on his arm, and even then noticed and wondered at the crimson that suddenly leaped into his olive face.
“Some day I will give you good reasons for refusing your request, which it is impossible for me to grant. If you are resolved to hazard the visit, I will take you in my buggy as far as the gate at ‘Solitude,’ and when you return will confer with you concerning the result. Just now, I can promise no more.”
An expression of disappointment clouded her brow.
“I had hoped that you would sympathize with and be more interested in my great sorrow.”
“Miss Dexter, my interest is more profound, more intense, than you can imagine, but at this juncture circumstances forbid its expression. My buggy is at the door.”