"Afraid!" The color rushed to Chris' face.
"Yes. Perhaps it is only my fancy, but she seemed nervous, I thought, when I mentioned you." He looked at the young man kindly. "Be gentle with her," he said, "I think she has suffered very much."
Chris did not answer, and the doctor went away.
Afraid! Afraid of him, when he loved her so! It was another hard blow to Chris to feel that Marie did not wish to see him. He tried 291 to make allowances for her. He knew what she had suffered. With sudden impulse he ran downstairs, overtaking the doctor in the hall below.
"My wife—does she know—that . . . that Feathers was drowned?" he asked jaggedly.
"Feathers?" the other man echoed, not understanding. "Oh you mean that poor fellow. Yes—I told her——"
"What—what did she say?"
"Nothing—she just turned her face away."
"I see. Thank you." Chris went upstairs slowly. He stood for a long time at his wife's door, not daring to knock, but at last he summoned his courage.
He heard her say "Come in" in a little quiet voice, and he opened the door.