"She never saw it at all, she never looked at it!" cried Mrs. Gereth.
"She doesn't look with her eyes; she looks with her ears. In her own way she had taken it in; she knew, she felt when it had been touched. That probably made her take an attitude that was extremely disagreeable. But the attitude lasted only while the reason for it lasted."
"Go on—I can bear it now," said Mrs. Gereth. Her companion had just perceptibly paused.
"I know you can, or I shouldn't dream of speaking. When the pressure was removed she came up again. From the moment the house was once more what it had to be, her natural charm reasserted itself."
"Her natural charm!" Mrs. Gereth could barely articulate.
"It's very great; everybody thinks so; there must be something in it. It operated as it had operated before. There's no need of imagining anything very monstrous. Her restored good humor, her splendid beauty, and Mr. Owen's impressibility and generosity sufficiently cover the ground. His great bright sun came out!"
"And his great bright passion for another person went in. Your explanation would doubtless be perfection if he didn't love you."
Fleda was silent a little. "What do you know about his 'loving' me?"
"I know what Mrs. Brigstock herself told me."
"You never in your life took her word for any other matter."