Part 8 (1/2)
”No. I'm all right. What's the matter with _you_?”
”With me? Nothing. Do I look as if anything was wrong?”
”You look as if you'd been frightened.”
He paused, considering it.
”This place isn't good for you. You oughtn't to be here like this, all by yourself.”
”Oh! Rodney, it's the dearest place. I love every inch of it. Besides, I'm not altogether by myself.”
He did not seem to hear her; and what he said next arose evidently out of his own thoughts.
”I say, are those Powells still here?”
”They've been here all the time.”
”Do you see much of them?”
”I see them every day. Sometimes nearly all day.”
”That accounts for it.”
Again he paused.
”It's my fault, Agatha. I shouldn't have left you to them. I knew.”
”What did you know?”
”Well--the state he was in, and the effect it would have on you--that it would have on any one.”
”It's all right. He's going. Besides, he isn't in a state any more. He's cured.”
”Cured? What's cured him?”
She evaded him.
”He's been well ever since he came; absolutely well after the first day.”
”Still, you've been frightened; you've been worrying; you've had some shock or other, or some strain. What is it?”
”Nothing. Only--just the last week--I've been a little frightened about you--when you wouldn't write to me. Why didn't you?”
”Because I couldn't.”
”Then you _were_ ill.”
”I'm all right. I know what's the matter with me.”
”It's Bella?”