She found he had a habit of repeating her words. She had noticed the same peculiarity before, in cases of decaying intellect.
"The bank note that he did not find was the one you had written for over and above what you wanted. Why did you write for it, David?"
This was a back question, and it took a great many others before David could answer. "He might have wanted to borrow more," he said at length; "I'd have lent him all then."
Poor man! That he should have had such blind faith in Mr. Hardcastle as to send for money in case he should "want to borrow more!" Mrs. Dundyke had taken this view of the case from the first.
"You don't believe in him now, David?"
"I don't believe in him now. He has got my bank notes; and he left me in the sun. Paul, put me in the cart when it came by."
"David, why did you not write to me?"
David stared. "I came," he said. And she found afterwards, that he could not write; she was to find that he never attempted to write again.
"Did you send to Geneva?—to me?"
"To Geneva?—to me?"