"Yes. What does she do?"
"Doesn't do anything," said Mr. Marrier. "Very good amateur actress. [198] Goes about a great deal. Her mother was on the stage. Married a wealthy wholesale corset-maker."
"Who did? Miss April?" Edward Henry had a twinge.
"No. Her mother. Both parents dead, and Miss April has an income—a considerable income."
"What do you call considerable?"
"Five or six thousand a year."
"The deuce!" murmured Edward Henry.
"May have lost a bit of it, of course," Mr. Marrier hedged. "But not much, not much!"
"Well," said Edward Henry, smiling, "what about my tea? Am I to have tea all by myself?"
"Will you come down and meet her?" Mr. Marrier's expression approached the wistful.