She sat dumb and stupid, worn out in body and mind.
'Do you hold me to blame?'
Still she did not speak.
'Rhoda, O Rhoda, I cannot bear this! Has that devil Christian taught you?'
Rhoda rose up with an indignant cry. Then she steadied her voice and spoke.
'The name of Christian I love, honour, reverence, above all names on earth. You are not worthy even to utter it. Betake you, with your lies, your slanders, your suspicions, to others ready to suspect and slander and lie—not to me, who till I die can trust him utterly.'
She turned and went. Philip stood.
'Is he dead?' he said to himself. 'He is dead. He must be dead.'
Awe and compassion alone possessed him. To his credit be it said, not one selfish consideration had a place then. Quick wits told him that Rhoda had inadvertently implied more than she would. He overtook her hastily.
'Hear me! I will not offend. I will not utter a word against him.'