“Tell me, what did she really do?” Mamie asked, after a long silence.
George hesitated a moment. He was willing to tell her many things which he would not have told her mother, for he felt that she could understand them and sympathise with them when Totty would only pretend to do so.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked, by way of giving himself more time to think.
“Is it not natural? I would like to know how a woman acts when the man she loves is dead.”
“Poor thing!” said George. “There is not much to tell, but I would not have it known—do you understand? She made me walk with her to the place where it happened and go over the whole story. She never said a word, though she looked like death. She suffers terribly—so terribly that there is something grand in it.”
“Poor Grace! I can understand. She wanted to know all there was to be known. It is very natural.”
“Is it? It seemed strange to me. Even I did not like to go near the place, and it was very hard to tell her all about it—how poor Bond gripped my arm, and then the grip after he was dead.”
He shuddered and was silent for a moment.
“I said it all as quickly and clearly as I could,” he added presently. “She thanked me for telling her, and for what I had done to save her husband. She said she hoped I would come again sometimes, and then I left.”
“You did not see Constance, I suppose?”