"So as not to aggravate Mona?" Fleda suggested.
"So as not to aggravate Mona, naturally. We've had a narrow course to steer, but thank God we're at last in the open!"
"What do you call the open, Mrs. Gereth?" Fleda demanded. Then as that lady faltered: "Do you know where Mr. Owen is to-day?"
Mrs. Gereth stared. "Do you mean he's at Waterbath? Well, that's your own affair. I can bear it if you can."
"Wherever he is I can bear it," Fleda said. "But I haven't the least idea where he is."
"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Mrs. Gereth broke out with a change of note that showed how deep a passion underlay everything she had said. The poor woman, catching her companion's hand, however, the next moment, as if to retract something of this harshness, spoke more patiently. "Don't you understand, Fleda, how immensely, how devotedly I've trusted you!" Her tone was indeed a supplication.
Fleda was infinitely shaken; she was silent a little. "Yes, I understand. Did she go to you to complain of me?"
"She came to see what she could do. She had been tremendously upset the day before by what had taken place at your father's, and she had posted down to Ricks on the inspiration of the moment. She hadn't meant it on leaving home; it was the sight of you closeted there with Owen
