"Well?" said Olivia briskly.
"Well?" responded Jack; but he looked at her without rising and without a smile; and both omissions were unlike the lover and the man.
"I half expected to find Mr. Dalrymple with you. I'm so glad he isn't! I—it's my turn, I think!"
"I haven't seen Dalrymple for over an hour," said Jack, with his heavy, absent eyes upon her all the time. "I wonder where he is?"
Olivia would not ask him what the matter was; she preferred to find out for herself, and then tell him. She looked about her. On a salver were a decanter and three wine-glasses; one was unused; and on the floor there lay an end of pink tape. She picked and held it up between finger and thumb.
"Lawyers!" she cried.
"Yes, I've had a solicitor here."
"Not to make your will!"
"No. On a—on a local matter. Don't look at me like that! It's nothing much: nothing new, at all events."
"But you are worried."