"No—I hadn't thought of anything." He looked ashamed, but he held his point. "I've suffered—horribly!" he said.
"I thought likely you would." Aunt Jane was placid.
He stared.
"You're the kind that's liable to suffer," she said slowly, "—all sort o' tewed up inside.... That kind has to suffer a good deal."
He looked down at his hands. Probably no one had ever spoken to Herman Medfield just as Aunt Jane was speaking.
She held the cards toward him—the black-edged one on top. "They came in your flower-boxes."
He took them without seeing them. Then he glanced at the black one and pushed them away.
"The same one that came before—isn't it?" remarked Aunt Jane serenely.
"Yes."