It made his companion laugh. “Why, for just what you say. For your marriage.”
“Mine?”—he wondered.
“Maggie’s—it’s the same thing. It’s ‘for’ your great event. And then,” said Mrs. Assingham, “she’s so lonely.”
“Has she given you that as a reason?”
“I scarcely remember—she gave me so many. She abounds, poor dear, in reasons. But there’s one that, whatever she does, I always remember for myself.”
“And which is that?” He looked as if he ought to guess but couldn’t.
“Why, the fact that she has no home—absolutely none whatever. She’s extraordinarily alone.”
Again he took it in. “And also has no great means.”
“Very small ones. Which is not, however, with the expense of railways and hotels, a reason for her running to and fro.”
“On the contrary. But she doesn’t like her country.”