'I'm sure you are really, dear. Now yesterday I felt very odd, very peculiar indeed.'
'Oh, what was it?'
'An indescribable sensation. At first it was a kind of heaviness in my feet, and a light sensation in my head, and a curious kind of emptiness—nervous exhaustion, I suppose.'
'It was just before lunch, no doubt. I daresay it went off. When I have little headache or don't feel quite up to the mark, I don't send for the doctor; I take no notice of it, and it goes away.'
'But you, my dear—you're as strong as a horse. That reminds me, will you fetch me my tonic?'
When she came back, he said—
'Look here, Edith, I'll tell you what you shall do, if you like. You're awfully good, dear, really, to worry about the bills and things, though it's a great nuisance, but I should suggest that you just run through them with my mother. You know how good-natured she is. She'll be flattered at your consulting her, and she'll be able to advise you if you have gone too far and got into a little debt. She knows perfectly well it's not the sort of thing I can stand. And, of course, if she were to offer to help a little, well! she's my mother; I wouldn't hurt her feelings by refusing for anything in the world, and the mater's awfully fond of you.'
'But, Bruce, I'd much rather—'
'Oh, stop, Edith. I'm sorry to have to say it, but you're becoming shockingly fussy. I never thought you would have grown into a fidgety, worrying person. How bright you used to seem in the old days! And of course the whole thing about the accounts, and so on, must have arisen through your want of management. But I won't reproach you, for I believe you mean well…. I've got one of my headaches coming on; I hope to goodness I'm not going to have an attack.'
He looked in the glass. 'I'm rather an odd colour, don't you think so?'