“Yes.”
“It’s horrible—and one can never know.”
“The Aviolets won’t think that there’s anything to know.”
“She will.”
“Yes,” said the doctor again, as deliberately as before, but with the slightest possible narrowing of his eyes as he spoke. “Yes, she’ll know, all right.”
Miss Lucian put her work down and clasped one hand over the other with a curious effect of earnestness.
“I never saw anything quite like the look in that boy’s eyes when she brought him here this afternoon. And yet I—I can’t place it. What in God’s name was it?”
“I don’t know.”
A sound of impatience broke from her.
“I tell you I don’t know, Henrietta. I’m not even certain that we’re not exaggerating.”