“Shall you go to see him?” Constance continued.
“Of course,” said Sophia. “I must!”
She hated the thought of going to see him. She flinched from it. She felt herself under no moral obligation to go. Why should she go? Gerald was nothing to her, and had no claim on her of any kind. This she honestly believed. And yet she knew that she must go to him. She knew it to be impossible that she should not go.
“Now?” demanded Constance.
Sophia nodded.
“What about the trains? ... Oh, you poor dear!” The mere idea of the journey to Manchester put Constance out of her wits, seeming a business of unparalleled complexity and difficulty.
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“Oh no! I must go by myself.”
Constance was relieved by this. They could not have left the servant in the house alone, and the idea of shutting up the house without notice or preparation presented itself to Constance as too fantastic.
By a common instinct they both descended to the parlour.