"Well, brother?"
"Well, Jane?"
"What have you done?"
"Done? what should I do?"
"Use a man's tools, that you are so fond of; plain speech, if no more. Have you spoken to Clarice yet?"
"No: why should I speak to her? She spoke to Mabel, not to me."
"Robert, are you ever sincere in anything? When I profess affection for people, I am ready to serve them at their need."
"So am I, and Clarice knows it. She is perfectly aware that I am ready to do this thing, or any other thing within my power, for her at any time. It is easy for her to say what she wants."
"Brother, you are so stupid! Don't you know that it is excessively difficult for her to allude, however remotely, to a matter like this? Say what she wants, she would die first. Do you desire to wait for that? She is not like the rest of us; and a woman is not like a man. You could talk for a week, and turn your whole mind inside out, with no fatigue—except to your audience; but the faintest reference to what I need not name would cost her a painful effort. I told you it was a great thing for her to say what she did to Mabel. That ought to have been enough for you."
"How could it be enough? Do try to talk sense now, Jane. How can I go off blindly on a fool's errand—in her interest, but without commission or instructions?"