'She had no suspicion of it. She always wrote to me openly, acknowledging the cheques. Would it gratify you to look through her letters?'
'I believe you.'
'Not quite, I fancy. Look at me again and say it.'
He raised her head gently.
'Yes, I believe you—it was very silly.'
'It was. The only piece of downright feminine foolishness I ever knew you guilty of. But when did it begin?'
Alma had become strangely quiet. She spoke in a low, tired voice, and sat with head turned aside, resting against the back of the chair; her face was expressionless, her eyelids drooped. Rolfe had to repeat his question.
'I hardly know,' she replied. 'It must have been when my illness was coming on.'
'So I should think. It was sheer frenzy. And now that it's over, have you still any prejudice against Mrs. Abbott?'
'No.'