‘Everything is all right.’
There was a silence.
‘Do you think you are keeping your promise?’ Brocklehurst asked, with a little laugh.
‘No; I suppose not.’
‘What do you want to hear? What do you want me to tell you? It is foolish, isn’t it, to bother about what is horrid, when there is so much that isn’t?’
‘In you, do you mean?’
‘In me, if you like.’
Graham turned away while he tried to puzzle it out. Then once more facing his companion, he seemed to himself to risk everything in a single question: ‘Why were you sent home?’
Brocklehurst just perceptibly coloured. ‘You haven’t, you know, considering that you are my friend, a very overwhelming confidence in me.’