"Fact is, I hate the place myself—the whole beastly house I hate. I've hated it ever since she was ill in it. I can't get away from her illness. I shall always see her ill. She'll be ill again if we go on living in it.
"I'm tired of the whole business—I'll let it to-morrow and take a house in the country.
"You might go upstairs, old man, and see what she's doing."
I went upstairs.
She was sitting in one corner of the study with a book in her hand pretending to read. Norah was sitting in another corner with a book in her hand, pretending to read. I gathered that Norah had been talking to her sister. I took up a book and pretended to read too.
Presently, when she thought we were absorbed, Viola got up and left us.
Norah waited till the door had closed on her. Then she spoke.
"Wally—it's more awful than we've ever imagined. I don't think she'll be able to stand it much longer."
"Well," I said, "she won't have to stand it much longer. He's going to chuck the place. It's got on his nerves, too. He understands exactly how she feels about it."
"Let's hope he doesn't understand how she feels about—It isn't the place, Wally."
"What is it, then?"