"The Doctor? Is he at home?"
"Guess he is by this time; I left him at Lamoral yesterday—"
"At Lamoral?" On hearing that word, a trembling I could not control seized upon me. If only Cale would speak of Mr. Ewart!
"Yes, Lamoral. I 've been lyin' right and left to Angélique an' Pierre, an' Marie, an' Mère Guillardeau an' all the folks 'round that's been inquirin'; but I didn't lie to the Doctor—not much!"
"How—how did the Doctor happen to be in Lamoral?"
"Guess you fergot he said he 'd like enough come back by the C.P."
I was silent. I saw that Cale did not intend to speak Mr. Ewart's name first. He was leaving it to me.
"Look here, Marcia, I 'm goin' to talk to you for once in my life like a Dutch uncle. I don't mean to live through another six weeks like those I 've been through, if I should live to be a hundred."
"I am sorry, Cale, to have been the cause of any anxiety, any suffering on your part—but I, too, suffered—and far more than you can ever know." I spoke bitterly.
"I ain't denyin' you suffered—but there 's others to consider; others have suffered, too, I guess, in a way you don't know nothin' about, bein' a woman."