“He had been acting queerly,” said Geraldine. “He came to my room after you left.”
“Of course he did not get the money from you?”
“Of course not.”
They rounded a corner, bent themselves to the strong wind and turned for the trip back.
“There is something I want to ask you, Geraldine.”
“Yes, mother; what is it?”
“I don’t know myself. It is in the back of my head somewhere; it’s an uncomfortable something-I-want-to-know, but don’t know what it is. I trace it back to a question I was about to ask you when Walter began and blew everything else out of my head.”
“Perhaps it was my prowling about the boat?”
“No; I did want to ask about that, but that is explained, and yet there is something else.... It will come to me suddenly some day, and then if you are not about I’ll write it down.”
Mrs. Wells was strong on Mind. Without being a Christian Scientist or a clairvoyant or a Yogi disciple, she was a little of all, including Swedenborgianism. She claimed to be a free psychologist, interested in all spiritual and mental phenomena but above a label.