I am so sorry for her." She meant it, too.

But I, remembering the Colton mansion, what I had seen of it, and contrasting its splendor with the bare necessity of that darkened bedroom, found it hard to spare pity for the sufferer from "nerves." "You needn't be," I said, bitterly.

"I imagine she wouldn't think of you, if the conditions were reversed.

I doubt if she thinks of any one but herself." "You shouldn't say that, Roscoe.

You don't know.