“Is he? What kind of a beast?”
“The worst kind. A jealous beast.”
“I think I rather like you, Minna.”
“Thank you. And the rest of us?”
“I’m prepared to like you all.”
“You’re quite right about this house, Serge. It is a prison. It’s been getting worse and worse ever since James died. It was awful, of course.”
“Why don’t you marry?”
“How can I? I’ve no money; can’t make any—and I’ve no intention of marrying a poor man. It isn’t so easy to fall in love either—unless you’re like Bub.”
“Who?”
“Gertrude. She’s in love with that young Bennett Lawrie. She goes to his church and looks at him as though he were a beautifully-cooked chop. He is rather like that. I shall call him the mutton-chop when he comes.”