'It's a confounded incongruous thing that you should be ruined,' he grumbled; his tone was a sheer grumble, and it made Trix smile again.
'A fool and her money——' she suggested as a time-honoured explanation. 'But ruin doesn't suit me, there's no doubt of that. Perhaps, after all, I was right to try to be rich, though I tried in such questionable ways.'
'You wouldn't be content to be poor?'
Trix was candid with him and with herself. 'Possibly—if everything else was very perfect.'
He pressed her hard. 'Could everything else seem perfect?'
She laughed uncomfortably. 'You understand wonderfully well, considering——!' A little wave of her arm indicated the room in Danes Inn.
'Yes, I understand,' he agreed gravely.
Again she rose. 'Well, I'm a little comforted,' she declared. 'You and Peggy and the rest of you always do me good. You always seemed the alternative in the background. You're the only thing now—or I'll try to make you. That doesn't sound overwhelmingly cordial, but it's well-meant, Mr. Newton.'
She held out her hand to him, but added as an afterthought, 'And you will tell me what to do about the investments, won't you?'