"She 's fond of me?" Maisie panted.
"Tremendously. But she thinks you don't like her. You must like her. She has had too much to bear."
"Oh, yes—I know!" She rejoiced that she had never denied it.
"Of course I 've no right to speak of her except as a particular friend," the Captain went on. "But she 's a splendid woman. She has never had any sort of justice."
"Hasn't she?"—the child, to hear the words, felt a thrill altogether new.
"Perhaps I ought n't to say it to you—but she has had everything to suffer."
"Oh, yes—you can say it to me!" Maisie hastened to profess.
The Captain weighed this. "Well, you need n't tell. It's all for you—see?"
Serious and smiling, she only wanted to take it from him. "It's between you and me? Oh, there are lots of things I 've never told."
"Well, keep this with the rest. I assure you she has had the most infernal time, no matter what any one says to the contrary. She 's the cleverest woman I ever saw in all my life. She 's too charming." She had been touched already by his tone, and now she leaned back in her chair and felt something tremble within
