‘Nothing.’
‘Why do you look sad?—Yes, I know, I know. I’ll try to forgive you.’
‘I can’t help thinking at times of the poor girl, Amy. Life will be easier for her now, with only her mother to support. Someone spoke of her this evening, and repeated Fadge’s lie that she used to do all her father’s writing.’
‘She was capable of doing it. I must seem to you rather a poor-brained woman in comparison. Isn’t it true?’
‘My dearest, you are a perfect woman, and poor Marian was only a clever school-girl. Do you know, I never could help imagining that she had ink-stains on her fingers. Heaven forbid that I should say it unkindly! It was touching to me at the time, for I knew how fearfully hard she worked.’
‘She nearly ruined your life; remember that.’
Jasper was silent.
‘You will never confess it, and that is a fault in you.’
‘She loved me, Amy.’
‘Perhaps! as a school-girl loves. But you never loved her.’