"This morning was it?"
"Yes; this morning. They little think that they can do nothing without my knowing it. He was there for nearly four hours, and she was dressed up in a white robe as Jael, with a turban on her head. Jael, indeed! I call it very improper, and I am quite astonished that Maria Clutterbuck should have lent herself to such a piece of work. That Maria was never very wise, of course we all know; but I thought that she had principle enough to have kept her from this kind of thing."
"It's her fevered existence," said Johnny.
"That is just it. She must have excitement. It is like dram-drinking. And then, you know, they are always living in the crater of a volcano."
"Who are living in the crater of a volcano?"
"The Dobbs Broughtons are. Of course they are. There is no saying what day a smash may come. These City people get so used to it that they enjoy it. The risk is every thing to them."
"They like to have a little certainty behind the risk, I fancy."
"I'm afraid there is very little that's certain with Dobbs Broughton. But about this picture, Mr. Eames. I look to you to assist me there. It must be put a stop to. As to that I am determined. It must be—put a—stop to." And as Miss Demolines repeated these last words with tremendous emphasis she leant with both her elbows on a little table that stood between her and her visitor, and looked with all her eyes into his face. "I do hope that you agree with me in that," said she.
"Upon my word I do not see the harm of the picture," said he.
"You do not?"