"No, I didn't. I only hoped that he might be. Have you any idea what he is up to?" Winston's tone was cynical.
Helen's face flushed painfully.
"You—" she began; then she paused. After all, Elijah was to blame. Winston's course had been as straight as the course of an arrow.
"I am a whited sepulcher. That is what you wanted to say, isn't it, Helen?"
"What makes you think so?"
"Because it's just what I am. I have been too hard on Elijah."
"I wish you had said something like this before—before it was too late."
"Too late?" he repeated. "What do you mean? Have you heard anything?" His face was anxious.
"No, I haven't. I only know that Elijah is thoroughly convinced that you have turned against him. That, and other troubles—Ralph, no man can stand the strain that he is under for long."
"You know Elijah as well as I do, perhaps better." Winston was profoundly agitated. "I would hunt him out and drag him home at once, if it were not for one thing."