“I suppose that’s it—in a way; yes. When you have followed my advice you will do that too.”
“The same prescription doesn’t fit every case,” he ventured.
“It doesn’t cure every complaint,” she allowed; “but it will cure yours.”
“Mine being?” he asked with an uplift of the brows.
“Loneliness.”
He laughed at this diagnosis, and Pamela laughed with him.
“No woman ought to prescribe for that complaint,” he said, “unless she is prepared to provide the remedy.”
“Ah! the patient has to find that for himself.”
“And suppose it happens to be out of his reach?—suppose it runs away?”
Pamela looked thoughtful.