"I don't know that I object," he said slowly, with a teasing smile, such
as one might use with a persistent child whom one chose to baffle in that
way.

She disdained to avail herself of the implied permission. "What I
mean--what I wish to tell you is--that I feel myself responsible for her
sickness, and that if she dies, I shall be guilty of her death."

"Ah?" said Dr. Mulbridge, with more interest, but the same smile. "What
do you mean?"

"She didn't wish to go that day when she was caught in the storm. But I
insisted; I forced her to go." She stood panting with the intensity of
the feeling which had impelled her utterance.

"What do you mean by forcing her to go?"

"I don't know. I--I--persuaded her."

Dr. Mulbridge smiled, as if he perceived her intention not to tell him
something she wished to tell him. He looked down into his hat, which he
carried in his hand.

"Did you believe the storm was coming?"

"No!"

"And you did n't make it come?"

"Of course not!"