“And you wouldn’t think the same of him, if he did.”
“I admit it!” she said.
“So, we are back to the thin ice. I’ll do what I can; but, you forgot, I am not at liberty to give his address to my brokers. I shall have to take their written offer to buy, and forward it to him, which, in itself will oblige me, at the same time, to tell him that I am not the purchaser.”
“I leave it entirely to you—manage it any way you see fit. All I ask, is that you get him to sell. It’s horrible to think of Geoffrey being reduced to the bare necessities of life—for that’s what it means, when he goes ‘where his income is sufficient for his needs.’”
“It’s unfortunate, certainly: it would be vastly worse for a woman—to go from luxury to frugality, from everything to relatively nothing is positively pathetic. However, Croyden is not suffering—he has an attractive house filled with old things, good victuals, a more than competent cook, 181 and plenty of society. He has cut out all the non-essentials, and does the essentials economically.”
“You have been there?” she demanded. “You speak of your own knowledge, not from his inferences?”
“I have been there!” he answered.
“And the society—what of it?” she asked quickly.
“Better than our own!” he said, instantly.
“Indeed!” she replied with lifted eye-brows. “Our own in the aggregate or differentiated?”