THE RETURN
"Well, no. You see, I was very young when I was married. Quite an inexperienced young girl—a child, you might almost say."
Lydia supposed that Mrs. Tottenham had been young. She strained her imagination to the effort.
"I did very well for myself when I married Mr. Tottenham," the wife said sharply. "I must say I never was a fool. My mother'd never brought me up to go about, but we did a good deal of entertaining at one time, Mr. Tottenham's friends and my own, and we always had things very nice and showy. But it was a lonely life."
Mrs. Tottenham's confidences were intolerable. Better a hundred times that she should nag.
"So you liked the Hydro—found it really comfortable?"
"Oh yes. But it's the coming back—to this. . . . Lydia, you're a good sort of girl. I wonder if I ought to tell you."
"Don't tell me anything you would regret," said Lydia defensively, jerking at the drawer-handles.
"You see, Mr. Merton was a good deal
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