"Did you want me, sir?" she asked.
"I ventured, Miss Keeldar, to send for you—that is, to ask an interview of a few minutes."
She waited; she plied her needle.
"Well, sir" (not lifting her eyes), "what about?"
"Be seated first. The subject I would broach is one of some moment. Perhaps I have hardly a right to approach it. It is possible I ought to frame an apology; it is possible no apology can excuse me. The liberty I have taken arises from a conversation with Henry. The boy is unhappy about your health; all your friends are unhappy on that subject. It is of your health I would speak."
"I am quite well," she said briefly.
"Yet changed."
"That matters to none but myself. We all change."
"Will you sit down? Formerly, Miss Keeldar, I had some influence with you: have I any now? May I feel that what I am saying is not accounted positive presumption?"
"Let me read some French, Mr. Moore, or I will even take a spell at the Latin grammar, and let us proclaim a truce to all sanitary discussions."