Perhaps all these reflections are a nuisance; but they crowd on me.
I will try to tell the story.
You see--when she came back from Nauheim Leonora began to
have her headaches--headaches lasting through whole days, during
which she could speak no word and could bear to hear no sound.
And, day after day, Nancy would sit with her, silent and
motionless for hours, steeping handkerchiefs in vinegar and water,
and thinking her own thoughts. It must have been very bad for
her--and her meals alone with Edward must have been bad for her
too--and beastly bad for Edward. Edward, of course, wavered in
his demeanour, What else could he do? At times he would sit
silent and dejected over his untouched food. He would utter
nothing but monosyllables when Nancy spoke to him. Then he
was simply afraid of the girl falling in love with him. At other
times he would take a little wine; pull himself together; attempt to
chaff Nancy about a stake and binder hedge that her mare had
checked at, or talk about the habits of the Chitralis. That was when
he was thinking that it was rough on the poor girl that he should
have become a dull companion. He realized that his talking to her
in the park at Nauheim had done her no harm.
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