A swift electric shock darted through Fulvia's frame. Speak to her! Speak about what? She could put only one interpretation on the words.
The girls' boudoir was close at hand, just across the passage. Nigel had always been free of entrance there, and he turned to go in. Fulvia followed with the candle, which she placed upon the mantelpiece, and Nigel stood facing her.
"I have something to tell you," he said. "It has only come to my knowledge to-day. About your money—"
"My money! Oh!" Fulvia came a step nearer, both relieved and disappointed. "I can wait about that!"
"I cannot!"
"There is no hurry—no need yet! As if I cared!"
"You will care. It is no good news."
"The more need to put off. We have had trouble enough to-day. Must we think of money so soon—when we have only just lost him? I would rather wait, far rather. And you are not well!"
"I cannot rest till I have told you."
"Well—" she answered reluctantly, "if it is a relief to you, of course—only please get it over as fast as you can."