"You came last week."
"Last week—yes. But since then things have happened, do you see?"
"Things have happened," she repeated, under her breath.
"Yes. My little girl is very ill."
"Peggy?" she cried, and covered her face with her hands. Then with her hands she made a gesture that swept calamity aside. Maggie would only believe what she wanted.
"She will get better," she said.
"Perhaps. But I must be with my wife."
"You weren't with her last night," said Maggie. "You could have come then."
"No, Maggie, I couldn't."
"D'you mean—because of the little girl?"