“Don’t!” he interrupted. “I hate to think of that time.”
“Well, I tell you I believe there is something of the sort brewing again,” the woman said. “I’ll tell you more about it later on.”
The waitress brought their tea, which Violet carefully prepared.
“Two pieces of sugar,” she said, “and no cream. You see I haven’t forgotten, although it is not often we have tea together now, Bertrand. You are becoming too fashionable, I suppose,” she added with a little frown.
“You know it isn’t that,” he answered hastily. “It’s my work, nothing but my work. Go on with what you were telling me, Violet.”
“You needn’t look so scared,” she said, glancing round to be sure that they were not overheard. “The only thing is that Madame must be told at once, and we shall all have to be careful for a little time. I shut up shop for the day as soon as I tumbled to the thing.”
“I wonder if this is Rochester’s doings,” he muttered.
“The husband of the lady?” Violet enquired.
Saton nodded.