Instead of answering, he deliberately lighted a cigarette and smoked, gazing darkly at her.
Kate shrugged her shoulders.
"What difference can it possibly make to you?"
He took his cigarette from his lips and looked at it.
"It will make a difference to him," he said at last.
The bell rang, and the knocker added its emphatic summons. One of Rothwell's dogs began to bark. Kate had risen, and stood with her eyes fixed on her brother's face.
"It would be a very good thing for the girl," she remarked meditatively. "I don't see what is to become of her, poor thing, unless she marries."
"Damn him!" said Rothwell.
The answer was not so irrelevant as it appeared. His gaze was as steady as Kate's own, and seemed to prolong his words as a singer prolongs a note. She drew her brows together, as if perplexed.
"Well," she said, turning away, "I must go and look after our lovers!"