"
On which I was the more amused that I had to explain I was only amused.
"What does it signify now?"
"I thought you thought everything signified. You were so full," she
cried, "of signification!"
"Yes, but we're further out now, and somehow in mid-ocean everything
becomes absolute."
"What else _can_ he do with decency?" Mrs. Nettlepoint went on. "If, as
my son, he were never to speak to her it would be very rude and you'd
think that stranger still. Then _you_ would do what he does, and where
would be the difference?"
"How do you know what he does? I haven't mentioned him for twenty-four
hours."
"Why, she told me herself. She came in this afternoon."
"What an odd thing to tell you!" I commented.
"Not as she says it. She says he's full of attention, perfectly
devoted--looks after her all the time. She seems to want me to know it,
so that I may approve him for it."
"That's charming; it shows her good conscience."
"Yes, or her great cleverness."
Something in the tone in which Mrs. Nettlepoint said this caused me to
return in real surprise: "Why what do you suppose she has in her mind?"
"To get hold of him, to make him go so far he can't retreat. To marry
him perhaps."
"To marry him? And what will she do with Mr. Porterfield?"
"She'll ask me just to make it all right to him--or perhaps you.
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