And now the callous determination.....
Toward what end? She recalled the words that had seemed so innocent
the day before:
Just open the door for me; I'll walk through it.
But what door was she to open? What vengeance?
But first there was one more question, which rose in sudden fullness
before her.
"My God. Margaret. Who was my father?"
"The Lord Purceville, though it was not willingly I took him to my
bed."
There was no need to say more. Her mother went back to the hearth, and
after a cheerless meal, told her to remain in bed until the fever
broke. Then went out on some errand of her own.
Five
Mary remained in the bed as she was told until, between her natural
vigor and childlike curiosity, she began to feel better, and then,
quite restless. Putting more wood on the fire and dressing warmly (she
was not incautious), she began to look around her for something to do,
or perhaps, something to read. It was impossible yet to think through
all that had happened in just these twenty-four hours, or to know what
she must do in answer.
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