_"]
"Yes," he said; "and it is only now I am beginning to understand
something of the situation. I do believe mental distress has had as much
to do with bringing on this fever as anything else; the chill may have
been only an accident that developed it. I told you when I saw him,
before he was struck down, how he seemed to be all at sixes and sevens
with himself--everything wrong--worried, harassed, and sick of life,
though he would hardly explain anything; he was always too proud to
ask for pity. Well, now, I am piecing together a story, out of these
incoherent appeals and recollections that come into his delirium; and if
I am right, it is a sad enough one, for it seems to me so hopeless. I
believe he was all the time in love with that Nina--Miss Ross--and did
not know it; for their association, their companionship, was so
constant, so like an intimate friendship. Then there seems to have been
some misunderstanding, and she went away unexpectedly--there is a box of
jewels and trinkets on the top of the piano, and I am certain these were
what she sent back to him when she left. I don't think he has the
slightest idea where she is; and that is troubling him more than
anything else--"
"But, Maurice," said Francie, instantly, "could we not find out where
she is?--surely she would come and see him and pacify his mind; it would
just make all the difference! Surely we could find out where she is!"
Mangan hesitated; it was not the first time this idea had occurred to
himself.
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