"My God, my God!" he cried out.
"'Tis bitter enough, but maybe the best that could have happened--for you, David."
Rhoda arrested him. She was looking straight into his face.
"Make yourself clear," he said. "What do you know--or what do you think you know? What's done be done, anyway."
"'Tis done---and better done, since it had to be."
"What do you know?" he repeated harshly. "Don't beat about. How much do you know? D'you know why? What's the reason? I can't go on with my life till I know who have done it. She never did, I'll swear to that. 'Twas forced upon her from outside."
"Maybe I can't tell you more than you've found out for yourself, if you speak so," she answered. "Yet 'twas she and only she could have done it. None else had the power to."
"Stop!" he cried out. "Don't play no more with words, if you don't want to see me go mad afore your eyes. Speak clear and tell me exactly what's in your head. I can't stand no more cloudy speeches. My mind's a frozen fog. If you've got the power to throw one ray of light, then do it. Light, I say--but there's no more light for me in this world now."
"Don't speak like that, David. Who can tell? Say nothing till time works its way. If I hurt to heal, forgive me; and if I'm wrong, I'll beg for you to forgive me. But I'm not wrong. It all joins together very straight and smooth. She's gone beyond finding, else they'd have found her by now."
"Gone beyond finding."