Do not
ask me, for, as I said before, I do not know where or how; yet I am
none the less convinced. This I do know, you are not the Lucile I
met by the wood trail across the river. That was the true Lucile,
little though I saw of her. The woman who is here to-day is a
strange woman. I do not know her. Sometimes it has seemed she was
Lucile, but rarely. This woman has lied, lied to me, and lied to me
about herself. As to what she said of the man, at the worst that is
merely an opinion. It may be she has lied about him likewise. The
chance is large that she has. What do you think about it?"
"That you are a very clever girl, Frona. That you speak sometimes
more truly than you know, and that at others you are blinder than you
dream."
"There is something I could love in you, but you have hidden it away
so that I cannot find it."
Lucile's lips trembled on the verge of speech. But she settled her
parka about her and turned to go.
Frona saw her to the door herself, and How-ha pondered over the white
who made the law and was greater than the law.
When the door had closed, Lucile spat into the street. "Faugh! St.
Vincent! I have defiled my mouth with your name!" And she spat
again.
"Come in."
At the summons Matt McCarthy pulled the latch-string, pushed the door
open, and closed it carefully behind him.
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