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Chapter 24
Andwhatdidthisstrainoftroublematterwhenmyeyeswentbacktothewindowonlytoseethattheairwasclearagainand—bymypersonaltriumph—theinfluencequenched?Therewasnothingthere.IfeltthatthecausewasmineandthatIshouldsurelygetall.“Andyoufoundnothing!”—Iletmyelationout.
Hegavethemostmournful,thoughtfullittleheadshake.“Nothing.”
“Nothing,nothing!”Ialmostshoutedinmyjoy.
“Nothing,nothing,”hesadlyrepeated.
Ikissedhisforehead;itwasdrenched.“Sowhathaveyoudonewithit?”
“I’veburnedit.”
“Burnedit?”Itwasnowornever.“Isthatwhatyoudidatschool?”
Oh,whatthisbroughtup!“Atschool?”
“Didyoutakeletters?—orotherthings?”
“Otherthings?”Heappearednowtobethinkingofsomethingfaroffandthatreachedhimonlythroughthepressureofhisanxiety.Yetitdidreachhim.“DidIsteal?”
Ifeltmyselfreddentotherootsofmyhairaswellaswonderifitweremorestrangetoputtoagentlemansuchaquestionortoseehimtakeitwithallowancesthatgavetheverydistanceofhisfallintheworld.“Wasitforthatyoumightn’tgoback?”
Theonlythinghefeltwasratheradrearylittlesurprise.“DidyouknowImightn’tgoback?”
“Iknoweverything.”
Hegavemeatthisthelongestandstrangestlook.“Everything?”
“Everything.Thereforedidyou—?”ButIcouldn’tsayitagain.
Milescould,verysimply.“No.Ididn’tsteal.
