Crispin's eyes narrowed. He put out his hand and laid it on Harkness's knee.
"We would have to see," Crispin murmured. "We would have to see. I wonder—I wonder...."
They were silent. Harkness's body was cold, but the room was very hot. The candles seemed to throw out a metallic radiant heat. Harkness moved his knee.
"It would not do to prove your theory too frequently," he said at last.
"No, no, of course it would not. It is, you understand, only a theory that I have inherited from my father. Yes. But I will confess that when an individuality comes close to me and remains entirely outside my influence I am tempted to wonder. . . . Well, to speculate. . . . I like to see how far one personality will surrender to another. It is interesting—simply as a speculation. For instance, you have noticed my daughter-in-law?"
"Yes," said Harkness, "I have. A charming girl."
"Charming. Exactly. But independent, refusing to make the most of the advantages that are open to her. Like my poor late wife, for instance. Unfortunate, because she is young and might benefit so much from my older and more experienced brain.
"But she refuses to come under my influence, remains severely outside it. Now, my son is almost too willing to understand my meaning. Were I to plunge a knife into his arm no blood would flow. I am speaking metaphorically of course. After a very slight training in his early youth he was all that I could wish. But too submissive—oh yes, altogether too submissive.
"His wife's independence, however, is quite of another kind. It might almost seem as though during these last weeks she had taken a dislike both to myself and my son. However, she is very young and a little time will alter that, I have no doubt. Especially as we shall be in foreign countries and to some extent alone by ourselves."
Harkness pressed his hands tightly together. A little shiver ran, as though it responded to the draught that blew through the room, up and down his body. He was anxious that Crispin should not notice that he was shivering.