'You have not seen any one?' she asked.
'City people. And you, my love?'
'Mr. Barmby called. He has gone down to Tunbridge Wells for a week, to some friend there.' She added, in pain of thought: 'I have seen Dartrey. He has brought Lord Clanconan to town, for a consultation, and expects he will have to take him to Brighton.'
'Brighton? What a life for a man like Dartrey, at Brighton!'
Her breast heaved. 'If I cannot see my Nesta there, he will bring her up to me for a day:
'But, my dear, I will bring her up to you, if it is your wish to see her.'
'It is becoming imperative that I should.'
'No hurry, no hurry: wait till the end of next week. And I must see
Dartrey, on business, at once!'
She gave the address in a neighbouring square. He had minutes to spare before dinner, and flew. She was not inquisitive.
Colney Durance had told Dartrey that Victor was killing her. She had little animation; her smiles were ready, but faint. After her interview with Dudley, there had been a swoon at home; and her maid, sworn to secrecy, willingly spared a tender-hearted husband—so good a master.