He shook his head.
"Oh, Ted, we might! He never used to be like this. He's got no one to speak to; we've left him by himself all this time in those horrid rooms. The wall-paper alone is enough to send anybody to the bad. We might have thought of him."
"I've done nothing else but think of him for the last two months. We can't do anything. He's bound to go on like that; I don't see how he can help it. As for drinking, nothing can stop that; I've seen fellows like him before; and Vincent never did anything by halves."
"It's terrible. But we ought to try—it's the least we can do."
"The least I can do is to keep out of his way. He hates the sight of me."
"Why?"
"Don't you know? Didn't it ever strike you that Audrey was engaged to Vincent all the time?"
"No. I thought he liked her, but—what makes you think that?"
"I can't tell you. But any sort of affectionate advances would come rather badly from me. How's Vincent to know that I never knew?"
"You may be sure he knows. He knows Audrey."