This shot went home, and Mrs Briggs cried out excitedly, “What do you mean? Who are you?”
“You haven’t been asked anything about these people for twenty years, have you?” Wise went on. “You didn’t think you ever would be asked about them, did you? Your memory is all right,—now what have you to say——”
“I have nothing to say. I remember a Mrs Curtis, but she was not my patient.”
“No; Mrs Varian was your patient. But Mrs Curtis figured in the Varian case pretty largely, I should say!”
Mrs Briggs broke down. “I didn’t do any harm,” she said. “I only did what I was told. I obeyed the others who were in greater authority than I was.” She buried her face in her apron and sobbed.
“That’s right, Mrs Briggs,” Wise said kindly; “tell the truth, and I promise you it will be far better for you in the long run, than to make up any falsehoods.”
“Tell me what happened,” the woman said, eagerly, as she wiped her eyes. “Oh, sir, tell me? Did Mrs—Mrs Varian’s little girl live to grow up?”
“Mrs Varian’s little girl!” Wise repeated with a strange intonation and a shrewd shake of his head.
“Yes, Mrs Varian’s little girl,” the woman insisted obstinately. “They took the child away when it was four weeks old, Mrs Varian was quite well and happy then.”
“Of course she was,—but, were you happy?”