"Very well, dear. If you think so."
"I do think so."
He suddenly felt very sorry for her. He was ready to excuse her astounding morbidity as a consequence of extreme spiritual tribulation. He added with brusque good-nature:
"And so will you, in the morning, my child."
"Shall you be long?"
"No. I told you I should be late. If you'll run off, my chuck, I'll undertake to be after you in half an hour."
"Is your headache better?"
"No. On the other hand, it isn't worse."
He gazed fiercely at the wages-book.
She bent down.