They want to catch me in a trap. That's what it feels
like. To make me what I was as a kid. It's strange, but there's more
in it than you'd think. You wouldn't believe the number of times
I've thought of my young days since I've been home. It's as though
some one was always shoving them up in front of my face. All I want,
you know, is to be jolly. To let other people alone and be let alone
myself. I wouldn't do any one any harm in the world--I wouldn't
really. But it's as though father wanted me to believe all the
things he believes, so that he could believe them more himself.
Perhaps it's the same with your aunt . . ." Then he added, "But
they're sick people. That explains a lot."
"Sick?" asked Maggie.
"Yes. My governor's got heart--awfully bad. He might go off at any
moment if he had a shock. And your aunt--don't you know?"
"No," said Maggie.
"Cancer. They all say so. I thought you'd have known."
"Oh!" Maggie drew in her breath. She shuddered. "Poor Aunt Anne! Oh,
poor Aunt Anne! I didn't know."
She felt a sudden rush of confused emotion. A love for her aunt,
desire to help her, and at the same time shrinking as though she saw
the whole house which had been, from the first, unhappy to her was
now diseased and evil and rotten.
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