The old French hypocrite!' Mary Quince threw in an observation, and I believe Mrs.Rusk rejoined, but I heard neither.

For whether the housekeeper spoke with reflection or not, what she said affected me strangely.

Through the smallest aperture, for a moment, I had had a peep into Pandemonium.

Were not peculiarities of Madame's demeanour and advice during the adventure partly accounted for by the suggestion?
Could the proposed excursion to Church Scarsdale have had any purpose of the same sort?
What was proposed?
How was Madame interested in it?
Were such immeasurable treason and hypocrisy possible?
I could not explain nor quite believe in the shapeless suspicion that with these light and bitter words of the old housekeeper had stolen so horribly into my mind.
After Mrs.Rusk was gone I awoke from my dismal abstraction with something like a moan and a shudder, with a dreadful sense of danger.
'Oh! Mary Quince,' I cried, 'do you think she really knew ?' '_Who_, Miss Maud ?' 'Do you think Madame knew of those dreadful people?
Oh, no--say you don't--you don't believe it--tell me she did not.

I'm distracted, Mary Quince, I'm frightened out of my life.' 'There now, Miss Maud, dear--there now, don't take on so--why should she ?--no sich a thing.