should
have given out. He had provided for several months ahead. After that he
trusted to chance and cunning.

When Sophy understood--and understanding had come in a flash, even as
she questioned, even before Anne Harding's triumphant cry--she felt that
this was the last straw. Something seemed to go _click!_ within her, as
though the fine mechanism of her reasoning mind had set itself to
another gauge--would not, forever any more, work to the old standard.
She must forgive--but she could never forget. And what is forgiveness
without forgetfulness? The cold body of duty, mummied by
conscientiousness, void of soul or life. She was done. He had seen her
misery, her anguish of anxiety, her heart-racking efforts to help him,
and day after day he had said to her, with that faint, mocking smile
that her blood burned in remembering:

"Just hand me a cigarette, will you, Sophy?"

And she had handed them to him, had fetched and carried the poison
for him like a well-trained retriever. And he had found
pleasure--amusement--in thus making her the unconscious instrument of
her own frustration--the innocent minister of his vile vice!

That was the most tragic moment of all to her--the moment when she gazed
down at those little dots of white on the lacquer tray, and realised
what they were.

XXX

That evening Anne Harding had what she called "a downright talk" with
Lady Wychcote. The two "hit it off" very well, considering all things.
There was a certain hardness in the little trained nurse, as in the
haughty old aristocrat, which commanded their mutual respect; though
Anne's hardness was always kind, and Lady Wychcote's nearly always
unkind. Still the two able creatures set a certain value on each other,
and this wrought for understanding.

Anne told her ladyship outright that she would give up the case unless
Dr. Carfew or Sir Lionel Playfair were put in charge. Dr. Bellamy had
told her that he would not assume further responsibility. Sophy had
ranged herself firmly on the side of Bellamy and Anne. Gerald was with
her in this decision.

Lady Wychcote looked rather grimly at the Lilliputian envoy.

"Very well," she said. "But I will not countenance an enforced removal
to one of their asylums."

"Could not your ladyship leave that to Doctor Carfew?"

"No," was her ladyship's reply.

"Perhaps I can bring _him_ to reason," Anne had said to Sophy after this
interview. "At any rate, I want him to hear plainly, fro