"Do you mean that you can not
account for your sister's violent end, you, who have lived with her
- or so I have been told-ever since her marriage with Mr. Jeffrey?"
"Yes."
Keen and clear the word rang out, fierce in its keenness and almost
too clear to be in keeping with the half choked tones with which she
added: "I know that she was not happy, that she never has been happy
since the shadow which this room suggests fell upon her marriage.
But how could I so much as dream that her dread of the past or her
fear of the future would drive her to suicide, and in this place of
all places! Had I done so - had I imagined in the least degree that
she was affected to this extent - do you think that I would have
left her for one instant alone? None of us knew that she contemplated
death. She had no appearance of it; she laughed when I -"
What had she been about to say? The captain seemed to wonder, and
after waiting in vain for the completion of her sentence, he quietly
suggested:
"You have not finished what you had to say, Miss Tuttle."
She started and seemed to come back from some remote region of
thought into which she had wandered. "I don't know - I forget," she
stammered, with a heart-broken sigh. "Poor Veronica! Wretched
Veronica! How shall I ever tell him! How, how, can we ever prepare
him!"
The captain took advantage of this reference to Mr.
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