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Mary laughed.
"
"
"
"
How ridiculous! He's going out of the gate. Isn't he coming back to-day?"
I don't know. I've given up trying to guess what he'll do next."
Is he quite mad, Mr. Hastings?"
I honestly don't know. Sometimes, I feel sure he is as mad as a hatter; and
then, just as he is at his maddest, I find there is method in his madness."
"I see."
In spite of her laugh, Mary was looking thoughtful this morning. She seemed
grave, almost sad.
It occurred to me that it would be a good opportunity to tackle her on the
subject of Cynthia. I began rather tactfully, I thought, but I had not gone far
before she stopped me authoritatively.
"You are an excellent advocate, I have no doubt, Mr. Hastings, but in this
case your talents are quite thrown away. Cynthia will run no risk of
encountering any unkindness from me."
I began to stammer feebly that I hoped she hadn't thought--But again she
stopped me, and her words were so unexpected that they quite drove
Cynthia, and her troubles, out of my mind.
"Mr. Hastings," she said, "do you think I and my husband are happy
together?"
I was considerably taken aback, and murmured something about it's not
being my business to think anything of the sort.
"
Well," she said quietly, "whether it is your business or not, I will tell you
that we are not happy."
I said nothing, for I saw that she had not finished.
She began slowly, walking up and down the room, her head a little bent,
and that slim, supple figure of hers swaying gently as she walked. She
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