The extraordinary disclosure which she had extracted from him
had produced a stupefying effect on her mind. Her customary sympathy
with him, her subtle womanly observation of his character, her intimate
knowledge of his merits and his defects, failed to find the rational
motive which might have explained his conduct. She looked round at him
with mingled feelings of perplexity and distrust.
He was still at the window, but he had turned his back on the view of
the garden; his eyes were fixed, in furtive expectation, on his wife.
Was he waiting to hear her say something more? She ran the risk and
said it.
"I don't quite understand the sacrifice you seem to be making to Mr.
Vimpany," she confessed. "Will you tell me, dear, what it means?"
Here was the opportunity offered of following the doctor's advice, and
putting his wife's credulity to the test. With her knowledge of
Vimpany, would she really believe the story which had imposed on the
strangers who managed the hospital? Lord Harry made up his mind, to try
the experiment. No matter what the result might be, it would bring the
responsibilities that were crushing him to an end. He need say no more,
if the deception succeeded.
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