How to reach these separate ends, by one and the
same means, was still the problem which she was trying to solve, when
the doctor's coarse voice was audible, calling for somebody to come to
him.
If his head was only clear enough, by this time, to understand the
questions which she meant to put, his answers might suggest the idea of
which she was in search. Rising with alacrity, Mrs. Vimpany returned to
the bed-chamber.
"You miserable creature," she began, "are you sober now?"
"I'm as sober as you are."
"Do you know," she went on, "why Mr. Mountjoy asked you to dine with
him?"
"Because he's my friend."
"He is your worst enemy. Hold your tongue! I'll explain what I mean
directly. Rouse your memory, if you have got a memory left. I want to
know what you and Mr. Mountjoy talked about after dinner."
He stared at her helplessly. She tried to find her way to his
recollection by making suggestive inquiries. It was useless; he only
complained of being thirsty. His wife lost her self-control. She was
too furiously angry with him to be able to remain in the room.
Recovering her composure when she was alone, she sent for soda-water
and brandy. Her one chance of making him useful was to humour his vile
temper; she waited on him herself.
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