Evidently the girl felt a certain pride in what she had undergone. Her failure to matriculate was forgotten in the sense that she offered a most interesting case of breakdown from undue mental exertion. The doctor had declared his astonishment that she held up until the examination was over.
‘He simply wouldn’t believe me when I told him the hours I worked. He said I ought to be on my trial for attempted suicide!’
And she laughed with extravagant conceit.
‘You have quite made friends with the Barmbys,’ said Nancy, eyeing her curiously.
‘They are very nice people. Of course the girls quite understand what a difference there is between themselves and me. I like them because they are so modest; they would never think of contradicting my opinion about anything.’
‘And what about the Prophet?’
‘I don’t think you ever quite understood him,’ Jessica replied, with an obvious confusion which perplexed her friend. ‘He isn’t at all the kind of man you thought.’
‘No doubt I was wrong,’ Nancy hastened to say. ‘It was prejudice. And you remember that I never had any fault to find with his—his character.’
‘You disliked him,’ said the other sharply. ‘And you still dislike him. I’m sure you do.’
So plainly did Jessica desire a confirmation of this statement, that Nancy allowed herself to be drawn into half avowing a positive dislike for Samuel. Whereupon Jessica looked pleased, and tossed her head in a singular way.