“Well—this is certainly strange,” Max declared. “Marion has all along been trying to allay my fears.”
“Because she feared to upset you, perhaps. With me it is different. She does not mind my feelings.”
“I’m sure she does, Charlie. She’s devoted to you. And she ought to be. Few brothers would do what you have done.”
“That’s quite outside the question,” he said, quickly pacing anxiously up and down the room. “She told me distinctly the other day that her fears were of the worst.”
“Ah! if you could only induce her to tell us what Maud confessed to her. It was a confession—a serious and tragic one, I believe.”
“Yes. It was, no doubt; and if she would only speak we could, I believe, quickly get at the truth,” Rolfe said. “To me it seems incredible that the Doctor, your most intimate friend, should not have found some secret manner by which to communicate with you, and assure you of his safety.”
There was a pause. Suddenly Max turned to the speaker and exclaimed—
“Tell me, Charlie. Be perfectly frank with me. Have you, do you think, at any time recently given some cause for offence to the Doctor?”
“Why do you ask that?” inquired the other in quick surprise.
“I have reasons for asking. I’ll tell you after you’ve answered my question.”