“No,” he said, “it won’t. It’ll give him a chance to get all right. I’ve convinced her it’s the only thing to do. He can’t be left here for you to look after.”
“Did she tell you?”
“She wouldn’t have told me a thing if I hadn’t made her. I dragged it out of her, bit by bit.”
“Rodney, that was cruel of you.”
“Was it? I don’t care. I’d have done it if she’d bled.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Pretty nearly everything, I imagine. Quite enough for me to see what, between them, they’ve been doing to you.”
“Did she tell you how he got well?”
He did not answer all at once. It was as if he drew back before the question, alien and disturbed, shirking the discerned, yet unintelligible issue.
“Did she tell you, Rodney?” Agatha repeated.