I tried to warn her
when you tempted her away. I know what her old home was when she
was like the soul of it, and how it changed when she was gone and
lost. Let me speak to her, if you please!'
He gazed at her with compassion, not unmixed with wonder: but, he
made no gesture of assent.
'I don't think she CAN know,' pursued Clemency, 'how truly they
forgive her; how they love her; what joy it would be to them, to
see her once more. She may be timorous of going home. Perhaps if
she sees me, it may give her new heart. Only tell me truly, Mr.
Warden, is she with you?'
'She is not,' he answered, shaking his head.
This answer, and his manner, and his black dress, and his coming
back so quietly, and his announced intention of continuing to live
abroad, explained it all. Marion was dead.
He didn't contradict her; yes, she was dead! Clemency sat down,
hid her face upon the table, and cried.
At that moment, a grey-headed old gentleman came running in: quite
out of breath, and panting so much that his voice was scarcely to
be recognised as the voice of Mr. Snitchey.
'Good Heaven, Mr. Warden!' said the lawyer, taking him aside, 'what
wind has blown - ' He was so blown himself, that he couldn't get
on any further until after a pause, when he added, feebly, 'you
here?'
'An ill-wind, I am afraid,' he answered.
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