"And aren't you very much appalled?"

The question was wrung from him by sheer astonishment. That she should
sit calmly embroidering a sofa-cushion, with this knowledge in her
heart, with this possibility hanging over her, seemed to him to pass the
limits of the human. He knew there were heroic women; but he had not
supposed that with all their heroism they carried themselves with such
sang-froid. Before replying she took time to search in her work-basket
for another skein of silk.

"Appalled is scarcely the word. Of course, it was a blow to me; but I
hope I know how to take a blow without flinching."

"Oh, but one like this--"

"We're able to bear it. What makes you think we can't? If we didn't try,
we should probably involve ourselves in worse."

"But how could there be worse?"

"That's what I don't know. You see, when my father told me of your kind
offer, he didn't tell me what you wanted."

"Did he say I wanted anything?"

"He said you hadn't asked for anything. That's what leaves us so much in
the dark."

"Isn't it conceivable--" he began, with a slightly puzzled air.