While she still seemed to be absorbing the spirit of the landscape, Mr. Grahame's voice came to her out of the bed.
"I want to speak to you."
She heard him, but it was not until he had repeated the same sentence three times that she chose to favour him with her attention. Bringing her head back into the room she turned her face slightly towards the speaker.
"Well?"
"Why did you marry me?"
"Because I was told that you would be dead inside two hours."
Although the reply was brutal in its plainness, it did not seem to hurt him in the least--indeed, it seemed rather to amuse him.
"That's a poor reason. What were you to gain by my death?"
"Dr. Twelves told me that I should have twenty thousand pounds."
"Did he? I see. That was the bait. You're a ready-witted young woman."