"Is she the sort of woman who would or could do what she appears to have done in this case? Is it conceivable that she has left you in a crisis like that which you have gone through, without a word of reply to letters received from you? Is it probable? Is it even possible? Is it thinkable?" "Apparently--" "Oh, hang 'apparently.' Apparently the sun circles round the earth, but we know better. Apparently the moon is made of green cheese, but it isn't. Apparently you are a crass idiot, but in the ultimate analysis you are nothing of the kind. Now answer my question: Is it probable or even conceivably possible that under the circumstances of your trouble in Richmond, Margaret Conway, pledged as she was to be your wife, and possessed as she is of an exalted conception of womanly truth and honor, and saturated as she is with the courage of a proud race, the courage that does duty and dares consequences--is it conceivably possible that she has under such circumstances sat still and left unanswered letters received from you in your travail?" "It seems unaccountable--" began Boyd, and his companion interrupted him: "Nobody has asked you to account for that which could not have happened. I am asking you to search your own soul and say whether or not this thing can be true. If anybody should tell me that Boyd Westover had set up a counterfeiting plant in one of his barns and was busily 'shoving the queer,' would you expect me to go bothering about how such a thing could have come about? Would you not expect rather that I should give the story the lie without further ado? This is a like case. If you know Margaret Conway, you know she has not been guilty of this stupendous wrong. You have no right to go on acting as if she had been." "You are right of course," Boyd replied, "so far at least as the principle is concerned. But how do you account for the facts?" "It isn't my business to account for the facts. I know and you know that under the circumstances which arose in this case, Margaret Conway _did not leave unanswered any letter she received from you_. Either she did not receive your letters, or you did not receive her replies, or, more probably, both things happened." "But how could that be? I--" "I don't know. I'm not the proper person to ask. I'm going up to bed now, if you don't mind. I've said all I had in mind to say." The conversation in the other porch was not like this, and yet in its way it was not unlike it. "I hope you enjoyed yourself at the Magisters' to-day, Millicent," said Margaret as the two seated themselves in the porch. "I'm sorry I couldn't be with you, but you see old Judy was very low, and I really had to stay with her." "Of course. Only it's all an astonishment to me--I mean the way in which you look after negroes who are ill." "Why, of course we must do that--"