"Will you go with me to the post-office?" she said abruptly.
"By all means," he answered, feeling for his glass.
"Oh, you needn't get your glass to spy at me with."
"Dear, dear, you use one yourself!"
"I'll tell you myself why I'm going. You're going to send a telegram."
"Am I?"
"Yes; to invite someone to stay with you. Lord Semingham, when you find a woman relies on a man—on one man only—in trouble, what do you think?"
She asked the question in a level voice, looking straight before her.
"That she's fond of him."
"And does he—the man—think the same?"