Not knowing what her lips would tell, he had begun to pat the back of her black glove when she started to speak, as one would quiet a child who pours out its troubles, but he stopped in amazement as she proceeded.

He had not loaned her a dollar, nor had Jack, as he knew, succeeded in getting a penny, unless by a miracle he had met some one on the train who had come to his rescue.
What did the poor woman mean?
Disgrace! Trouble! Garry taking money, and Jack paying it back on Monday! The horror of her husband's sudden death had undoubtedly turned her mind, distorting some simple business transaction into a crime, or she would not be thanking him for something that he had never done.

This talk of Jack's could only have been a ruse to keep up her spirits and give her false strength until she had passed through the agonizing ordeal of the funeral--he accepting all her delusions as true--as one does when an insane person is to be coaxed back into a cell.

These thoughts went whirling through his mind, as Peter watched her face closely, wondering what would be his course.

He had not met her often, yet he could see that she was terribly changed.
He noticed, too, that all through the interview she had not shed a tear.
Yes--there was no question that her mind was unbalanced.