"Poor Mrs. Ralston," says Claire, after a long pause in their converse. "She is thoroughly worn out, and yet, weary as she was, she must have talked with you for hours, Madeline, after we came back from the grave."
Over Madeline's face flits an odd, half-sad smile, as she replies, dreamily:
"Yes, we talked a long time, dear; Mrs. Ralston was then in the mood for talking. Can't you understand how one may be nervously active, may be at just that stage of bodily weariness when the mind is intensely alive? The excitement of all she had lately undergone was still upon her, and the mind could not resign itself to rest while anything remained unsettled or under a cloud."
"Oh, I can understand how that may be." Then, after a pause, "so something remained to be settled?"
"And, between you, you disposed of the difficulty?"
"Yes."
Another silence. Then Madeline turns to look at her companion.
"Why don't you ask me what the 'difficulty' was?"
No answer.