"You see!" he said gently.
Beyond them the gardener struggled with a refractory horse that refused to draw his load of brush and dead leaves. She stared at the group dully: six months ago she would have flinched at the great clambering hoofs and the man's danger.
"And even if I did give up and promise everything, do you believe I'd get out, doctor?"
"I see no reason——"
"You don't need to lie to me," she interrupted. "When I signed that paper, they fooled me: it was for good. It said six months—but it was for good."
He felt a great sympathy for her. It was hard, very hard. And yet, what they had been through with her!
"If only you hadn't refused to travel," he began.
"But I agreed to—I agreed to, last month," she cried, "even though I'm never well travelling, I agreed to—and what happened? Dr. Jarvyse said it wouldn't be best for me! And you did nothing..."
"How could I, Miss Mary?" he urged. "You know the only reason I see you so often is that I acquiesce and don't interfere. The moment I thought it would do any good——"
"You mean you're not sure, yourself!" she said keenly.