“Like what?”
“Days all alike. Evenings all alike.” Adèle clenched her hands. “Nobody coming, nobody going. Why haven’t you dried up and blown away!”
Grimshaw regarded her. She had undoubtedly become somewhat of a safety-valve for his feelings, since the day when Miss Frink brought a foreign body into the ordered régime of the big silent house, but he could do without her. He would rather do without everybody. His eyes behind the owl spectacles had a slight inimical gleam.
“Why do you stay if you don’t like it?” he returned.
The young woman straightened up resentfully.
“For the same reason you do,” she retorted.
“That is a very silly remark,” he said coldly. “A business man stays by his business interests.”
She regarded him in silence, and her stiff posture relaxed. He was powerful and she was powerless. She had put herself in his power many times. He could undo her with Miss Frink any hour.
“I’m alone in the world, Leonard,” she said, suddenly becoming self-pitying. “I’m so glad to have found a friend in you. Don’t desert me. I’d love Aunt Susanna if she would let me.”
“Better not try it on,” returned the secretary dryly, and again seated himself at his desk.