human
I tell you, Joan, I never sent for Grace. If you don't know where she is--none but God knows!
gpt
I have told you all, his sister answered, catching her breath at every word almost--
human
You let her go, Joan! You let her go! It was a piece of your proud temper. Her death lies at your door. And so will mine!
gpt
Are you sure that you let her go? Are you sure that she is not in this house now? he cried, coming up to his sister, and taking both hands to be sure of her.
human
She must be here; and you are joking with me.
gpt
Worth, she left this house at two o'clock by that timepiece yesterday, instead of to-day, as we meant to do. She would not let any one go with her, because you were coming down the hill to meet her. Not expecting to go home that day, she had a pair of my silk stockings on, because--well, I need not go into that--and knowing what a darling little fidget she is, I thought she had sent you back with them, and to make your peace for so flurrying me.
human
Have you nothing more to tell me, Joan? I shall go mad while you dwell on your stockings. Who brought that letter? What is become of it? Did you see it? Can you think of anything? Oh, Joan, you women are so quick-witted! Surely you can think of something!