"What do you mean?" said Mrs. Gray.
"He has always been a friend of mine," said George, absently, "and I'll never let it be said that I haven't stretched out a hand to help him. Besides, he doesn't do it of his own accord, as you may say. And it isn't as if you weren't a good wife to him, because I know that you are."
"Whatever is the matter?" cried Mrs. Gray, clasping her hands frantically.
"He must sign the pledge," said George again. "You're a good wife to him, and he doesn't do it willingly."
"Doesn't do what?"—wildly.
George laid one hand upon Mrs. Gray's sleeve, and looked steadily into her eyes.
"Does he ever talk in his sleep?" he asked.
"I don't think so—not much. I haven't noticed."
"Never mentions the name Flora, Alice, or May, I suppose?"
"I don't think—you don't mean to say——"