"I think I understand. A sort of moral fatigue."
"That's a splendid name for it."
"But will she—will they, be satisfied with that? Shall I be asked questions?"
"Say I'm run down."
"Run down and no visitors. Have I got it right?"
"And that I'm writing. Don't forget that part. How's time?"
I went to the window and looked at my watch. "Just time to do it comfortably."
"Good-bye, then, and thank you, Prentice, from my heart. You're doing me a big favor. Oh! by the way," calling me back from the door. "About Mrs. Hepworth."
"Yes?"
"She's written, making an appointment for to-night. The book, you know. More mutilation. I can't go as I am."