‘Of course I have repeatedly thought of the Boffins, Sophronia,’ he resumed, after a fruitless silence; ‘but I have seen my way to nothing. They are well guarded. That infernal Secretary stands between them and—people of merit.’
‘If he could be got rid of?’ said she, brightening a little, after more casting about.
‘Take time, Sophronia,’ observed her watchful husband, in a patronizing manner.
‘If working him out of the way could be presented in the light of a service to Mr Boffin?’
‘Take time, Sophronia.’
‘We have remarked lately, Alfred, that the old man is turning very suspicious and distrustful.’
‘Miserly too, my dear; which is far the most unpromising for us. Nevertheless, take time, Sophronia, take time.’
She took time and then said:
‘Suppose we should address ourselves to that tendency in him of which we have made ourselves quite sure. Suppose my conscience—’
‘And we know what a conscience it is, my soul. Yes?’