Maggie made a tiny mental note.
"I don't deny for an instant that it's a very odd story," she
said. "But this kind of explanation is just--oh, I can't speak of
it. You allowed yourself that up to this last thing you didn't really
believe it; and now because of this coincidence the whole thing's
turned upside down. Laurie, I wish you'd be reasonable."
Laurie glanced at her.
She was sitting with her back to the curtained and shuttered window,
beyond which lay the yew-walk; and the lamplight from the tall stand
fell full upon her. She was dressed in some rich darkish material, her
breast veiled in filmy white stuff, and her round, strong arms lay,
bare to the elbow, along the arms of her chair. She was a very
pleasant wholesome sight. But her face was troubled, and her great
serene eyes were not so serene as usual. He was astonished at the
persistence with which she attacked him. Her whole personality seemed
thrown into her eyes and gestures and quick words.
"Maggie," he said, "please listen. I've told you again and again that
I'm not actually convinced. What you say is just conceivably possible.
But it doesn't seem to me to be the most natural explanation.
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