"No--no. I shall be all right soon; the valerian will soothe me. I have told you so much that I must tell you all. I should have said nothing about it but for the nervous fit which came over me just now. Sit down."
Accordingly, Geoffrey waited, lighting a cigar the while. Now that the information had been imparted to him almost against Webster's will, he was anxious to hear the whole story; he determined that Ruth, at least, should never know it. Try as she might, she would never get it out of him. He made up his mind, too, that he would be a friend to the unfortunate creature who was so cruelly afflicted. Not only that, but he would give what advice and aid lay in his power to ameliorate the situation. But he doubted whether the position could be amended.
Neil thanked him by a look, and returned to his sofa in a quieter frame of mind; the fury of the attack had left him weak and faint, but he insisted on speaking, and as he did so, his strength gradually came back. To Geoffrey this sudden recuperation seemed little short of miraculous, for he was quite unaware of the power of the nerves to recover themselves.
"I had better begin by asking you a few questions," he began.
"But are you sure you are strong enough?"
"I shall be all right directly. The truth has to be told now; and, moreover, I want your advice."
"I'll do anything in my power," Heron said.
"You are a good fellow. How I have misunderstood you! Well, I will repay you by giving up Ruth to you; I shall never marry her, nor, indeed, anyone. Heaven help me!"
"Why not?" Geoffrey, asked.
"You have seen what I am. What sort of husband or father should I make? But this is beside the point. Hear what I have to tell, and advise me what to do. In the first place, do you know the Turnpike House?"