She checked herself suddenly, with a gasp and an appealing look at Helen for pardon, in view of her slip.
Helen bent nearer to her as she replied, with grave gentleness:
"I am afraid I have thought very unkindly of you—at least, until last Sunday. I am glad to say I do not feel the same to-day."
"And I tried to blackmail you last Sunday!" said Marie, with a bitter curl of her white lips.
"I know; but you also showed me something of your better self, which made me regret that I had not been a little more kind to you. I would have given you some money after that, if you had not left me so suddenly. But," Helen continued, with a glance at the door through which the nurse had disappeared, "I am afraid we are talking too much for your good——"
"Talking won't harm me now," the woman interposed, her brows contracting painfully. "I know I have, at last, really got to the 'end of my rope.' I'm glad, though, it is not an end of my own making. I've sometimes thought that might be the easiest way out of this muddle we call life; but somehow I was ashamed to sneak out of a hard place in such a way, even though I'd leave nobody behind to care."
"They told me downstairs that you were wishing to see me," Helen broke in to change the gruesome subject. "Why did you want them to send for me? Is there anything I can do for your comfort, now that I am here?"
Marie lifted her great eyes and searched her companion's face curiously.
"For my comfort! You!" she cried; then hastened to add: "No, but I wanted to do something for you and your girl. I haven't had a very pleasant time since you told me about that money, and I want to give you those newspapers and photographs, so that they will not fall into the hands of any one else, to make mischief for you. This is my bag, hanging here on the bed; will you open it for me?"
Helen took down the receptacle, and did as she had been requested.