“What in the world will become of Basil?”
He winced visibly. Doris’s flagrant selfishness to Basil hurt almost more than her faithlessness to himself.
“She stated in the letter that her husband was allowing her a thousand a year for herself, and she was prepared to pay a housekeeper to look after Basil and the flat.”
“Little beast,” Hal breathed under her breath. “What are they going to do?” she said aloud.
“The tenant opposite insists upon taking Doris’s place. She was sitting with him when Ethel got home, and the letter arrived about the same time. Nothing else will satisfy her. She is going to be with him all day, and only teach in the evenings after Ethel has got back.”
“How splendid of her!” involuntarily.
“She hardly seems the kind of person Basil would like, but he appeared quite pleased. It may have been a little quixotism. All he said was:
“What in the world should we have done without you, G; and there! only a few weeks ago you were wishing you had not been born.”
“How like Basil. All gratitude and understanding as usual. But it must have hit him rather hard, Dudley. Is he all right?”
“I don’t know.” The gloom on Dudley’s face deepened. “I thought he looked very ill, but I could not get Ethel to say much. She seemed rather to avoid me. I don’t think she likes me.”