“No, I’m blessed if I do. But then you know I’m very stupid about some things, Virginia. Fact is, I’m just stupid enough to imagine—no, I mean think—that it would be the most natural thing in the world to go straight to the Maxwells and thank ’em for all they’ve done for your father in takin’ him in and givin’ him the kind of care that money can’t buy. There’s special reasons that I needn’t mention why you should say thank you, and say it right.”
Virginia examined the toe of her boot for some time in silence and then began:
“But you don’t understand the situation, Mrs. Burke.”
“Virginia, if you don’t stop that kind of thing, I shall certainly send for the police. Are you lookin’ for a situation? If you have got anything to say, say it.” 261
“Well, to be quite frank with you, Mrs. Burke, I must confess that at one time Mr. Maxwell and I were supposed to be very good friends.”
“Naturally. You ought to be good friends with your rector. I don’t see anything tragic about that.”
“But we were something more than friends.”
“Who told you? You can’t believe all you hear in a town like this. Maybe some one was foolin’ you.”
“I ought to know what I am talking about. He accepted our hospitality at Willow Bluff, and was so attentive that people began to make remarks.”
“Well, people have been makin’ remarks ever since Eve told Adam to put his apron on for dinner. Any fool can make remarks, and the biggest fool is the one who cares. Are you sure that you didn’t make any remarks yourself, Virginia?”