"So you think at the moment. But apart from your own feelings—not to mention mine—what about Mrs. Lancaster's?"
"I—I have already told her we cannot go on living as we are doing."
"Yes? And her reply?"
Lancaster was mute.
"Have you, by any chance, mentioned to her the matter of the!—a—debt to the—"
"For God's sake, don't torture!"
"I have no wish to do that," said Bullard quietly. "Let us change the subject, which is not really urgent at present, for one which, I trust, may be less disagreeable to you."
The host wiped his forehead. "What is it about?" he asked wearily.
"Your daughter."