'Mary, I'll be frank with you. I came this morning because I wanted to find out how much I really do know about him.'
'I don't understand.'
'If I knew him----'
'If? You said just now you did.'
'The only thing which makes me doubt is what you say about his health. The person I knew was an invalid; so great an invalid that his life was despaired of.'
'That's not my James. How long ago is it since you knew him?'
'How long? Oh'--she was tapping the table again with the corner of one of his photographs--'fifteen years.'
'Fifteen years? Why, that's before I knew him--I was only in short frocks. I've come into his life since that. He may have been ill then, and all you say. If he was, then marrying me has done him good. You'd never have thought it if you'd known him as I have these six years. Do those children look as though they had a sick father? No!--they're like him--strong as strong. I tell you, my James is as sound and healthy a man as there is in England; and if you ever see him you won't need for him to tell you so himself to know it.'
She looked at me, I couldn't help thinking, a little queerly, half laughing, half solemn.
'Mary, any one would think I'd been traducing your husband's character in suggesting that he might be an invalid.'