“But surely,” protested Sylvia, “to hear Mary Abbott’s explanation——”
“There can be no explanation that is not an insult to your husband, and to those who are caring for you. I am speaking in this matter not merely for myself, but for your physicians, who know this woman, heard her menaces and her vulgarity. It is their judgment that you should be protected at all hazards from further contact with her.”
“Douglas,” she argued, “you must realize that I am in distress of mind about this matter——”
“I certainly realize that.”
“And if you are thinking of my welfare, you should choose a course that would set my mind at rest. But when you come to me and ask me that I should not even read a letter from my friend—don’t you realize what you suggest to me, that there is something you are afraid for me to know?”
“I do not attempt to deny my fear of this woman. I have seen how she has been able to poison your mind with suspicions——”
“Yes, Douglas—but now that has been done. What else is there to fear from her?”
“I have no idea what. She is a bitter, jealous woman, with a mind full of hatred; and you are an innocent girl, who cannot judge about these matters. What idea have you of the world in which you live, of the slanders to which a man in your husband’s position is exposed?”
“I am not quite such a child as that——”
“You have simply no idea, I tell you. I remember your consternation when we first met, and I told you about the woman who had written me a begging letter, and got an interview with me, and then started screaming, and refused to leave the house till I had paid her a lot of money. You had never heard such stories, had you? Yet it is the kind of thing that is happening to rich men continually; it was one of the first rules I was taught, never to let myself be alone with a strange woman, no matter of what age, or under what circumstances.”