"Well, I just thought that I might have asked her to go up and see Laurence for a minute, now he's better.... She hasn't been near the room since I came.... And I took it that way, as if she had no business there...."
Lavery looked sideways at her, discomfited.
"Well, you couldn't have too many people running in—he isn't fit for it," he muttered.
"No, but I do feel badly about her.... You see, it goes back years. She was in our house, took care of the boys when they were little. She really loved them—and I guess she'd always been fond of Laurence, she knew him before I did. But I didn't notice it until ... well, I discovered it suddenly and ... she was turned out of the house practically.... I didn't concern myself about how she lived after that...."
"So that was the trouble," said Lavery, looking curiously at her. "I never knew that—I mean, that she was concerned in it.... And you were awfully angry?"
Mary frowned. "I don't know what I was.... It did something to me—I never got over it—couldn't."
"I suppose you were very much in love with Laurence then."
"I don't know whether I was or not, that wasn't the way I thought about it.... I didn't think about it much anyway—I never liked thinking about my feelings ... or talking about them."
"You don't mind talking a little this way, do you?"
"No, not now—it seems so long ago, and then—I'm hardly the same person I was then."