Explore "Secret of the River" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Eleanor Blissett did everything in her power to try and comfort the stricken girl, but it was quite a long time before Angela was in a position to speak coherently. She lay there, white of face and staring as if she could see some vision which was invisible to her sympathetic companion. But all they could say and do made no difference, and, from time to time, Angela's lamentations broke out afresh. It almost seemed as if she were blaming herself for the tragic events of the morning.
"You are more than kind," she murmured. "But it is no use, no use. Oh, if I had only told him the truth."