ow--"was too
much for my--nerves."

"But, Mrs. Carstairs"--he looked down at her with perplexity in his
face--"do I understand you to mean you have deliberately come back to
live in the place which has treated you so shamefully?"

"Why not?" Her long, blue eyes were inscrutable. "I'm not ashamed of
coming back. You see, I really don't care in the very least what these
people say about me. I don't even bear them malice. Prison life is
supposed to make one bitter, isn't it? You hear a lot about the 'prison
taint,' whatever that may be. Well, I don't feel conscious of having
sustained any taint. I have suffered a great wrong"--her contralto voice
was quite unmoved as she made the assertion--"a very grievous injustice
has been done to me; but now that the physical unpleasantness of the
ordeal is over I don't feel as though I--my ego, my soul, if you
like--had undergone any particular degradation."

"I suppose"--the question was forced from him by his interest in the
human document she was spreading before his eyes--"I suppose what you
call the physical unpleasantness is really hard to bear?"

He was sorry he had put the question as he saw the slow shudder which
for a moment convulsed her immobility.

"Yes." For a second her voice was almost passionate. "I don't think I
could make you understand the horror of that side of imprisonment. Most
prison reformers, as I say, prate of the injury done to the soul of the
prisoner. For my part--it if were worth while, which it isn't--I would
always refuse to forgive those enemies who subjected my body to such
indignities."

Her vehemence, so much at variance with her usual manner, made Anstice
uneasy about her.

"See here, Mrs. Carstairs." He sat down on the couch beside her, and
spoke persuasively. "You must promise me not to let your mind dwell on
your terrible experience. Honestly, do you think it wise to stay here?
Won't it be painful for you to live among the people who know you?
Wouldn't it be better to go away for a short time, travel a little?
There are plenty of places off the beaten track where you would be able
to rest and get back your health and your spirits."

She turned to him with a hint of a kindlier manner than she had hitherto
displayed.

"Dr. Anstice, to tell you the truth I don't want to travel. I shall be
happier here, in my own home, with my old servants round me, able to do
exactly as I choose from morning to night."

She hesitated a moment; then re