"In the drawing-room with Colin. He won't come in."
"Eliot, there's something awfully wrong with him. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He's sick if he tries."
"He looks pretty ghastly."
"Do you know what's the matter with him?"
"How can I know? He doesn't tell me anything."
"It's ever since he heard that Anne's going." "He's worried about her.
So am I. So are you."
"He isn't worrying. He's fretting…. Eliot—do you think he cares for her?"
Eliot didn't answer her. He looked at her gravely, searchingly, as if he were measuring her strength before he answered.
"Don't be afraid to tell me. I'm not a coward."
"I haven't anything to tell you. It isn't altogether this affair of
Anne's. Jerrold hasn't been fit for a long time."