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BEATRICE moved back and sank into a deep chair facing Trask. She gave not a look either to me or to Longstreet. It was as if we were not there. She gazed steadily at Trask for a moment as if hoping he would relent, then she folded her hands in her lap and began.
"It will be necessary to tell you something about my aunt so that you may understand," she started in a voice so calm, so quiet and so detached that, although her gaze was directed steadily at Trask, it was more as if she were talking to herself.
"Aunt Cornelia was a strange woman, one of quick, warm, generous impulses, who seemed to make many friends, but only to quarrel with them. It wasn't their fault. It wasn't her fault. She couldn't help it. There was some queer twist in her nature, something almost as strong and baffli
