“I was going to ask you for some of the details,” Armstrong continued, “which you alone can give.”
“Oh, I beg of you,” she repeated; “I could not bear it.”
“Then by all means let us forget it,” he replied, curiously affected by the girl’s emotion. “Perhaps some time later you will feel more like talking about it. You see, I can remember nothing after the crash against the wall.”
“Thank God!” cried Inez, passionately, turning away her head.
“I suppose it is better so,” Armstrong assented, still wondering at the intensity of her emotion. “But when one has had a whole fortnight of his life blotted out, he naturally feels a bit of curiosity concerning what happened during all that time.”
“You must excuse me, Mr. Armstrong. You don’t know how this tortures me, and I really cannot bear it.”
Armstrong watched the girl as she turned and fairly fled from the room, completely mystified by her extraordinary attitude.
“What in the world can have happened?” he asked himself; and then he settled back on the pillow and tried to answer his own question.