“I don’t know,” said Alvina. “Not extraordinary. Rather a hefty brute—”
Mrs. Tuke glanced at her, to detect the irony.
“I should like to see him,” she said. “Do you think I might?”
“I don’t know,” said Alvina, non-committal.
“Do you think he might come up? Ask him. Do let me see him.”
“Do you really want to?” said Alvina.
“Of course—” Mrs. Tuke watched Alvina with big, dark, slow eyes. Then she dragged herself to her feet. Alvina helped her into bed.
“Do ask him to come up for a minute,” Effie said. “We’ll give him a glass of Tommy’s famous port. Do let me see him. Yes do!” She stretched out her long white arm to Alvina, with sudden imploring.
Alvina laughed, and turned doubtfully away.
The night was silent outside. But she found Ciccio leaning against a gate-pillar. He started up.