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Chapter X. The Arrest
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IbegantostammerfeeblythatIhopedshehadn’tthought——Butagainshestoppedme,andherwordsweresounexpectedthattheyquitedroveCynthia,andhertroubles,outofmymind.
“Mr.Hastings,”shesaid,“doyouthinkIandmyhusbandarehappytogether?”
Iwasconsiderablytakenaback,andmurmuredsomethingaboutit’snotbeingmybusinesstothinkanythingofthesort.
“Well,”shesaidquietly,“whetheritisyourbusinessornot,Iwilltellyouthatwearenothappy.”
Isaidnothing,forIsawthatshehadnotfinished.
Shebeganslowly,walkingupanddowntheroom,herheadalittlebent,andthatslim,supplefigureofhersswayinggentlyasshewalked.Shestoppedsuddenly,andlookedupatme.
“Youdon’tknowanythingaboutme,doyou?”sheasked.“WhereIcomefrom,whoIwasbeforeImarriedJohn—anything,infact?Well,Iwilltellyou.Iwillmakeafatherconfessorofyou.Youarekind,Ithink—yes,Iamsureyouarekind.”
Somehow,IwasnotquiteaselatedasImighthavebeen.IrememberedthatCynthiahadbegunherconfidencesinmuchthesameway.Besides,afatherconfessorshouldbeelderly,itisnotatalltheroleforayoungman.
“MyfatherwasEnglish,”saidMrs.Cavendish,“butmymotherwasaRussian.”
“Ah,”Isaid,“nowIunderstand——”
“Understandwhat?”
“Ahintofsomethingforeign—different—thattherehasalwaysbeenaboutyou.”
“Mymotherwasverybeautiful,Ibelieve.Idon’tknow,becauseIneversawher.ShediedwhenIwasquitealittlechild.
