"And I can do nothing? I can't help you in any way?"
"No, no—nothing. Only don't plague. Leave me in peace."
Dorothea was hurt—naturally—though she would not show it. Her one desire was to comfort him, and he repelled her with coldness. But she remembered how unhappy, he was, and she would not let her face cloud over.
"We shall have tea soon, That will do you good," she said cheerfully.
"Tea" meant a somewhat heavy meal at seven o'clock. Till then the Colonel occupied himself with mysterious blue papers; reading and re-reading them, and sighing repeatedly. Now and again, in restless style, he got up to walk about the room. During one such peregrination, he remarked brusquely—
"We shall have to leave this."
"Leave this house?"
"Of course."
"Where shall we go?"
"I don't know."