"
"Which of course we should do."
The quiet, determined voice sent a shiver through Marcia. She caught
Newbury's hand in hers, and held it close.
"Yes, but Edward!--listen!--it would kill them both. His mind seems to be
giving way. I got a letter from her again this morning, inclosing one from
their doctor. And she--she says if she does go, if decent people turn her
out, she'll just go back to people like herself--who'll be kind to her.
Nothing will induce her to go to the Cloan Sisters."
"She must, of course, be the judge of that," said Newbury, coldly.
"But you can't allow it!--you _can't_!--the poor, poor things!" cried
Marcia. "I saw him too, Edward--I shall never forget it!" And with a
growing excitement she gave a full account of her visit to the farm, of
her conversation with Mrs. Betts, of that gray, grief-stricken face at the
window.
"He's fifty-two. How can he start again? He's just torn between his
work--and her. And if she goes away and hides from him, it'll be the last
straw. He believes he saved her from a bad life--and now he'll think
that he's only made things worse. And he's ill--his brain's had a shake.
Edward--dear Edward!--let them stay!--for my sake, let them stay!"
All her soul was in her eyes.
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