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Chapter 7
Grose—hereyesjustlingeringonmine—gaveashudderandwalkedtothewindow;andwhileshestoodtherelookingoutIcompletedmystatement.“That’swhatFloraknows.”
Afteralittlesheturnedround.“Thepersonwasinblack,yousay?”
“Inmourning—ratherpoor,almostshabby.But—yes—withextraordinarybeauty.”InowrecognizedtowhatIhadatlast,strokebystroke,broughtthevictimofmyconfidence,forshequitevisiblyweighedthis.“Oh,handsome—very,very,”Iinsisted;“wonderfullyhandsome.Butinfamous.”
Sheslowlycamebacktome.“MissJessel—wasinfamous.”Sheoncemoretookmyhandinbothherown,holdingitastightasiftofortifymeagainsttheincreaseofalarmImightdrawfromthisdisclosure.“Theywerebothinfamous,”shefinallysaid.
So,foralittle,wefaceditoncemoretogether;andIfoundabsolutelyadegreeofhelpinseeingitnowsostraight.“Iappreciate,”Isaid,“thegreatdecencyofyournothavinghithertospoken;butthetimehascertainlycometogivemethewholething.”Sheappearedtoassenttothis,butstillonlyinsilence;seeingwhichIwenton:“Imusthaveitnow.Ofwhatdidshedie?Come,therewassomethingbetweenthem.”
“Therewaseverything.”
“Inspiteofthedifference—?”
“Oh,oftheirrank,theircondition”—shebroughtitwoefullyout.“Shewasalady.”
Iturneditover;Iagainsaw.“Yes—shewasalady.”
“Andhesodreadfullybelow,”saidMrs.Grose.
