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Chapter X. The Arrest

           

           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.

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