"
"And what happens afterwards?"
Sylvia shuddered, but it was too dark in the carefully shuttered room for
Edith to see her. She said quite quietly:
"That depends. In many cases--nothing dreadful."
"Ever anything good?"
"Yes, yes, _good_ things can happen. They can be _made_ to."
"Will you make good things happen to me?"
"I will, indeed I will."
"And not hate me?"
"Never that."
"May I tell you now?"
"If you believe that it will make you feel better; and if you will
promise, after you have told me, to let me give you the treatment
you need."
"I promise--Do you remember that in the spring Hugh Elliott came to spend
a couple of months with Fred?"
Sylvia's fingers twitched, but all she said was, "Yes, Edith."
"He used to be in love with Sally; but he got all over that. He said he
was in love with me. I thought he was--he certainly acted that way.
Saying--fresh things, and--and always trying to touch me--and--that's the
way men usually do when they begin to fall in love, isn't it, Sylvia?"
"No, darling, not _usually_--not--some kinds of men.
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