"And Rupert said he would like to go to the funeral, if he may."
"Thank you. I'll let him know about it." He glanced at Miriam and hesitated, yet when he spoke it was in a franker voice than the one she was used to hear. "I'm afraid you were upset last night."
Her answering look made a pact between them. "We didn't hear about it till this morning."
He nodded, watching her through his thick lashes. He gave her a strong impression that he was despising her a little, and she saw him look from her to Helen as though he made comparisons. Indeed, at that moment, he thought that these sisters were like thirst and the means to quench it, like heat and shade; and a sudden restlessness made him shift in his seat.
"I expect you have a lot to do," Helen said. "Good-bye."
"Good-bye. And thank you," he said gruffly, and caught the flash of Miriam's smile as he turned.
Helen stood looking after him. "Poor George!" she said. "I rather like him. I wish he wouldn't drink."
"Exaggerated stories," Miriam remarked neatly.
"Oh, yes, but he looks as if he had never had a chance of being nice."
"I don't believe he has ever wanted one," Miriam said.