"Yes. To have what—what I'm supposed to have," said he.
Cecily regarded him intently for another moment.
Then she sank back into Addie Tristram's great arm-chair, asking, "Will she do it well?"
"No," said Harry. "She's a good sort, but she won't do it well."
Cecily sighed and turned her head toward the window.
"Why do you do it? Do you care for her?"
"I like her. And I want money. She's very rich. Money might be useful to me."
"You seem very rich. Why do you want money?"
"I might want it."
There was silence for a moment. "Well, I hope you'll be happy," she said presently.