"I'm obliged to be. Somebody must be."
"Mr. Loring," she said abruptly, "you don't like me, neither you nor Miss Ferrars."
"I never answer for others. For myself——"
"Oh, I know. What does it matter? Well, anyhow, I'm sorry for that poor man."
"Your sympathy is very ready, Mrs. Cormack."
"You mean it is too soon—premature?"
"I mean it's altogether unnecessary, to my humble thinking."
"But I'm not a fool," she protested.
Tom could not help laughing. The laugh, however, rather spoilt his argument.
"Have it your own way," he conceded, conscious of his error, and trying to cover it by a burlesque surrender. "He's miserable."