“Troubled with poor Mr Gartram’s complaint.”
“What do you mean?”
“Distrust. She has all her savings hoarded up, and next time I go she has promised to place them in my hands for investment.”
“Don’t talk about that. I hate the very name of money. I wish poor Claude hadn’t a shilling, and we were both free girls, able to do what we liked.”
Trevithick laughed.
“How can you be so cruel, sir?” cried Mary. “Oh, John, dear, that man is killing poor Claude. Seriously, can’t you discover some way to separate them?”
Trevithick shook his head.
“Then Claude will separate herself.”
“I wish she could. But how?” said Trevithick, with a sigh.
“By dying.”