“That is true, it was very unhappy.”
“Is there anything in your memory of your husband, any details regarding your married life, that may have a bearing on your present state of mind?”
“I—I think perhaps there is,” she answered hesitatingly.
“Is it something of an intimate nature that—er—you find it difficult to tell me about?”
“I will tell you about it, doctor, but, if you don't mind,” she made a pathetic little gesture, “I would rather tell you at some other time. It has no bearing upon my immediate trouble, that is, I don't think it has.”
“Good. We'll take that up later on. Now I want to ask another question. I understood you to say that when you did that brave act on the battle field you really wanted to—to have the whole thing over with?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You did not go out to rescue Captain Herrick simply because you—let us say, cared for him?”
For the first time Penelope's face lighted in an amused smile. “I haven't said that I care for Captain Herrick, have I? I don't mind telling you, though, that I should not have gone into that danger if I had not known that Chris was wounded. I cared for him enough to want to help him.”
“But not enough to go on living?”