"In the first place, eh? And what does he mean in the second?"
Fleda hesitated; she had not foreseen that so simple an inquiry could disconcert her. "I'm afraid I don't know."
"Didn't you ask?" Mrs. Gereth spoke as if she might have said: "What then were you doing all the while?"
"I didn't ask very much," said her companion. "He has been gone some time. The great thing seemed to be to understand clearly that he wouldn't be content with anything less than what he mentioned."
"My just giving everything back?"
"Your just giving everything back."
"Well, darling, what did you tell him?" Mrs. Gereth blandly inquired.
Fleda faltered again, wincing at the term of endearment, at what the words took for granted, charged with the confidence she had now committed herself to betray. "I told him I would tell you!" She smiled, but she felt that her smile was rather hollow and even that Mrs. Gereth had begun to look at her with some fixedness.
"Did he seem very angry?"
"He seemed very sad. He takes it very hard," Fleda added.
"And how does she take it?"
"Ah, that—that I felt a delicacy about asking."
"So you didn't ask?" The words had the note of surprise.
