The words stuck in
his throat. He had expected to meet--if he met her at all--a skulking
contrite criminal. This woman was jubilant. An amazing, terrifying
state of affairs.
"There is something the matter with you, Tommy. Perhaps you have caught
my headache. You remember how inquisitive you were? And how you
complained of the roses? If you come up now you will find fresh ones
waiting for you."
Her glance was unclouded. No human being ever looked less
conscience-stricken. It was as though she had convinced herself of the
righteousness of her deed, and thereafter dismissed it from her mind as
something not worth bothering about. Blithe as a bird! If he had not
seen with his own eyes--
"Has it gone, your headache?" he enquired, not knowing what to say.
"Gone away altogether. I have heard so much about this procession that
I thought I would drive down and have a look at it. I missed the last
one, you know. Besides, I wanted to see some friends here whom I've
been neglecting lately. I feel quite guilty about it," she added.
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