He had never seen her since, and had never inquired for her of
his own accord. Two or three times his brother had spoken of her in a
casual way, telling him once that she was with Mrs. Crawford. Arthur had
then asked how she could afford to keep her, and Frank had made no
reply. But the second time when he spoke of Jerry, and Arthur, more
interested in Mrs. Crawford than in her, had asked the same question,
Frank had said:
'She cannot afford it, I pay her three dollars a week.'
For a moment Arthur looked inquiringly at him; then he said:
'You are a good fellow after all, even if you did deceive me about
sending John for Gretchen. Tell Colvin, when Christmas comes, to give
Mrs. Crawford a hundred dollars for me.'
After this Mrs. Crawford and her affairs passed completely out of
Arthur's mind. He never went to the cottage, or near it. He never went
anywhere, in fact, but lived the life of a recluse, growing thinner, and
paler, and more reticent every day, talking now but seldom of Gretchen,
though he never arose in the morning or retired at night without kissing
her picture and murmuring to it some words of tenderness in German.
He had measured the length of his three rooms and dressing-room, and
found them to be nearly one hundred feet, or six rods do that by passing
back and forth twenty-five times he would walk almost a mile.
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