“In the one little right place. In your removal of every doubt—”
“Well, of what?” He had appeared not quite to know how to put it. But he saw at last. “Why, of what we may still hope to do for her. Thanks to your care there were specimens.” Then as she had the look of trying vainly to focus a few, “I can’t recover them one by one,” he pursued, “but the whole thing was quite lurid enough to do us all credit.”
She met him after a little, but at such an odd point. “Pardon me if I scarcely see how much of the credit was yours. For the first time since I’ve known you, you went in for decency.”
Mitchy’s surprise showed as real. “It struck you as decency—?”
Since he wished she thought it over. “Oh your behaviour—!”
“My behaviour was—my condition. Do you call THAT decent? No, you’re quite out.” He spoke, in his good nature, with an approach to reproof. “How can I ever—?”
But it had already brought her quite round, and to a firmer earth that she clearly preferred to tread. “Are things really bad with you, Mitch?”
“Well, I’ll tell you how they are. But not now.”
“Some other time?—on your honour?”
“You shall have it all. Don’t be afraid.”