"You think, then, that nothing could have saved him?"
"I think it could not. Where there is a strong tendency to hereditary disease, it is sure to show itself."
"And--I have not taken him about too much? It has not injured him?"
"I hope not," cheerfully replied Mr. Pym. Where was the use of his saying it had, whatever his opinion might be?
She had her finger right up through the hole in the handkerchief now, and was looking at it--at the finger, not the hole. Mr. Pym watched every turn of her features, seeming to keep his eyes quite the other way.
"What right had George St. John to marry?" she suddenly cried. "If people know themselves liable to any disease that cuts off life, they should keep single; and so let the curse die out."
"Ay, if people would! Some have married who had a less right to do so than George St. John."
The remark seemed to have escaped him unwittingly. Mrs. St. John turned her eyes upon him, and he hastened to resume:
"No blame could attach to your husband for marrying, Mrs. St. John. When he did so, he was, to all appearance, a hale, healthy man."
"He might have suspected that the waste would come upon him. It had killed the St. Johns of Alnwick who had gone before him."