“I got your letter,” she said. “Miss Lascarides has come back; the child has spoken. I suppose you are very happy?”
He feared to detect jealousy in her tones; he found only a business-like precision.
“I was coming to dine with you,” he said. “Can’t you do with me?”
“Oh, we want you so much!” she said.
He had a sudden and black premonition.
“You’re not on bad terms with Dudley?” he asked.
“Tell me,” she said, “you were in town part of the time when Dudley was all alone? Mother died, you know, a week after you left for Athens.”
“Oh, poor child!” Grimshaw answered.
Her lips moved a little.
“She suffered so much, poor dear; she was so brave.” She looked up at him with a queer little smile. “I suppose were born to suffer. It’s up to us to be brave.”