‘No, don’t go yet. I want to—to talk to you about things. Sit down there for a minute.’
He pointed to the couch, and Mary, with an anxious look, obeyed him.
‘I’m thinking of leaving this house, and going to live in the country. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t. My partner can look after the business well enough.’
‘It might be the best thing you could do, sir. The best for your health.’
‘Yes, it might. I’m not satisfied with things. I want to make a decided change, in every way.’
His face had grown more haggard during the last few days, and his eyes wandered, expressing fretfulness or fear; he spoke with effort, and seemed unable to find the words that would convey his meaning.
‘Now I want you to tell me plainly, what do you think of Nancy?’
‘Think of her, sir?’
‘No, no—don’t speak in that way. I don’t want you to call me ‘sir’; it isn’t necessary; we’ve known each other so long, and I think of you as a friend, a very good friend. Think of me in the same way, and speak naturally. I want to know your opinion of Nancy.’
The listener had a face of grave attention: it signified no surprise, no vulgar self-consciousness, but perhaps a just perceptible pleasure. And in replying she looked steadily at her master for a moment.