Professor Russell's lips twitched at the thought of his being blamed for not writing after the worst had happened to him. But he made no other sign.
"You are mistaken, I have seen you, my dear, many a time when you have passed this window and at least I have had the satisfaction of realizing you were well and happy."
"But I am neither," Frieda protested. "Besides I don't understand how you knew, unless, unless—do you mean Frank and Jack were both aware that you were here and never told me? They preferred I should suffer. I shall never forgive either of them, never." And Frieda drew herself up, very stately and very injured. But in truth her lips were trembling.
"You are not to blame your sister or brother, Frieda," Professor Russell interrupted. "They have simply done what I asked, what I required of them. You came over to England to be rid of my presence. I had neither the desire nor the right to thrust myself upon you."
"Then I don't see why you didn't go and live somewhere else," Frieda remarked petulantly. But at the same instant she sank down into a chair.
"I do wish, Henry, you would give me some tea. You seem to have an extraordinary looking little girl to look after you. And I feel very much overcome from the shock of hearing an explosion outside a strange house and then seeing your face floating in space on the inside. Moreover, if you are so extraordinarily scientific I should think you would know enough to go and wash that gas bomb out of your hand."
This time Professor Russell openly laughed.
"It is scarcely a gas bomb inside my hand, Frieda. One of the chemicals simply went slightly wrong."
But Frieda had closed her eyes and dropped her head back and really looked so pale that her husband hurried out after his small maid and the tea things.
The moment he had disappeared however she opened her eyes again.