But yet she could not go.
'You'll promise never to speak--'
'Yes, yes, of course I promise. Come back to me. Mind, shall know
how you did it.'
'But why? What is she to us?'
'I'll tell you afterwards.'
There was a dawning of jealousy in her eyes.
'I don't think you ought to make your wife lower herself--'
His brow darkened.
'Will you do as I tell you?'
She moved towards the door, stopped to dry her wet cheeks, half
looked round. What she saw sped her on her way.
Adela was just descending the stairs, dressed to go out. Alice let
her go past without speaking, but followed her through the hall and
into the garden. Adela turned, saying gently--
'Do you wish to speak to me?'
'I'm sorry I said those things. I didn't mean it. I don't think it
was your fault.'
The other smiled; then in that voice which Stella had spoken of as
full of forgiveness--
'No, it is not my fault, Alice. It couldn't be otherwise.'
'Don't think of it another moment.'
Alice would gladly have retreated, but durst not omit what seemed to
her the essential because the bitterest words.
'I beg your pardon.'
'No, no!' exclaimed Adela quickly. 'Go and lie down a little; you
look so tired. Try not to be unhappy, your husband will not let harm
come to you.'
Alice returned to the house, hating her sister-in-law with a perfect
hatred.
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