"He'll understand."
"Will he!"
"Mr. Sutcliffe, I mean."
V.
She went down to Greffington Hall that night and told him. He understood.
But not quite so well as Mrs. Sutcliffe. She gave you a long look, sighed, and smiled. Almost you would have thought she was glad. He didn't look at you. He looked down at his own lean fine hands hanging in front of him. You could see them trembling slightly. And when you were going he took you into the library and shut the door.
"Is this necessary, Mary?" he said.
"Yes. We don't quite know what's wrong with Roddy."
"Then why not wait and see?"
"Because I do know. And Mamma doesn't. There's something, or he wouldn't have come home."