Hannay responded quite cheerfully in his immense relief.
It was what they were all trying for, to make poor Mrs. Majendie believe that her husband's illness was to be attributed solely to the shock of the child's death.
"Do you think that shock could have had anything to do with his illness?"
"Of course I do. At least, I should say it was indirectly responsible for it."
She put her hand up to hide her face. He saw that in some way incomprehensible to him, so far from shielding her, he had struck a blow.
"Dr. Gardner told you that much," said he. He felt easier, somehow, in halving the responsibility with Gardner.
"Yes. He told me that. But he had not seen him since October. You saw him on Friday, the day I came home."
Hannay was confirmed in his suspicion that on Friday there had been a scene. He now saw that Mrs. Majendie was tortured by the remembrance of her part in it.
"Oh well," he said consolingly. "He hadn't been himself for a long time before that."
"I know. I know. That only makes it worse."