The reflection compelled Mumford to speak when his head was on the pillow.
'Emmy, we're making fools of ourselves.

Just tell me what you have done.' 'I can't see how _I_ am guilty of foolishness,' was the clear-cut reply.
'Then why are you angry with me ?' 'I don't like deceit.' 'Hanged if I don't dislike it just as much.

When is that girl going ?' Emmeline made known the understanding at which she had arrived, and her husband breathed an exclamation of profound thankfulness.

But peace was not perfectly restored.
In another room, Louise lay communing with her thoughts, which were not at all disagreeable.

She had written to Cobb, telling him what had happened, and asking him to let her know by Wednesday morning what she was to do.