I shall only say that you are inquiring--scientific, or
feminine--what you please! . . . You can now yield up your portfolio
of--foreign affairs--of war--shall I say? and retire into sedative
habitations, which, believe me, you become best. . . . What concerns me
need concern you no longer. The enemy retreats. She offers truce--without
conditions. She retires. . . . Is that enough for even you, Professor
Marmion?"
"Mrs. Falchion," I said, finding it impossible to understand why she had
so suddenly determined to go away (for I did not know all the truth until
afterwards--some of it long afterwards), "it is more than I dared to hope
for, though less, I know, than you have heart to do if you willed so. I
know that you hold some power over my friend."
"Do not think," she said, "that you have had the least influence. What
you might think, or may have intended to do, has not moved me in the
least. I have had wrongs that you do not know. I have changed--that is
all. I admit I intended to do Galt Roscoe harm.
"I thought he deserved it. That is over. After to-night, it is not
probable that we shall meet again.
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