“Yes?”
“You see, you have held a sort of pistol to her head.”
He weighed her words carefully, slightly frowning, as he wrestled with the issues involved. When he spoke no boyishness informed his tones.
“Do you ask me to lower that pistol?”
“I feel such a helpless fool.”
“Well, if you want the whole truth, so do I. We are both in the same boat. As an honest man I have to face the fact that conditions here are getting worse every day. Action, to be of real use, should be immediate and sustained.”
“I suppose you must do your duty.”
“What is my duty? To better conditions if I can. How? That’s the rub. That’s where my helplessness comes in. If I rush things, kick up a horrid rumpus, shall I achieve my ends? I doubt it.”
“Don’t rush things, Mr. Grimshaw, please.”
“So be it! And, perhaps, your mother is not quite so proud as you think. She may yet be guided by Lord Wilverley.”