Her hand was on the catch of the gate, but still she met his look. “Mr. Dermot,” she said, “there is a French saying that applies very closely to you and to me. Do you know what it is?”
“ ‘Tout comprendre est tout pardonner,’ ” he said.
She opened the gate. “Even so,” she said. “When that happens, you will know why I have not hated you.”
She left him with the words, but not before the sudden fire of his look had reached her soul. As she went away down the garden-path, she knew that her limbs were trembling. But there was that in her heart which filled her with a burning exultation. The stones were turning to bread indeed.
CHAPTER IX
THE INVALID
“Don’t take any notice of anything he says!” whispered Nurse Dolly. “Just sit beside him and keep him quiet! He’s got some queer fancies, poor old man. Sure you won’t mind them?”
“Of course not,” Frances murmured back.
“That’s right. And give him some bromide if he gets tiresome! Otherwise, that digitalis stuff. You understand, don’t you?”
“Perfectly,” said Frances.
“Then I’ll go,” said Dolly. “Be sure to call if you want anyone! I shall only be in the next room. I expect he’ll be quite good. He likes you. But don’t stand any nonsense from him! Because if once he gets the upper hand, he’s difficult.”