He leaned over the table towards her, and spoke in an anxious undertone.
"Have you noticed anything a little--a little strange in your mother lately, Maud?
Anything in her way of speaking, I mean--her general manner ?" The girl met his look, and shook her head.

The approach to such a conversation affected her as with a shock; she could not speak.
"She has very bad nights, you know," Paul went on, still in a tone just above a whisper, "and of late she has been taking chloral.

It's against my wish, but the relief makes it an irresistible temptation.

I fear--I am afraid it is having some deleterious effect upon her; she seemed to be a little--just a little delirious in the night, I thought." There was something horrible in his voice and face as he uttered these words; he shuddered slightly, and his tongue seemed to labour for utterance, as though he dreaded the sound of his own speech.
Maud sat unmoving and silent.
"I thought, also," Paul went on, "that she appeared a little strange last evening, when the people were here .-- You weren't in the drawing-room ?" Maud shook her head again.
"Do you--do you think," he asked, "she is having too much excitement?
I know she needs a life of constant variety; it is essential to her.

I'm sure you understand that, Maud?
You--you don't misjudge her ?" "No, no; it is necessary to her," said the girl mechanically.
"But," her father pursued, with still lower voice, "there is always the danger lest she should over-exert herself.