"What are you doing in it yourself, George?"
"I? I came to see you. I was told you would be there. You know, you do let yourself in for people."
"Do I?"
"You do. And these Brodricks aren't your sort. No good can come of your being mixed up with them. Why do you do these things?" he persisted.
"They're kind to me," she pleaded.
"Kind? Queer sort of kindness, when you're working yourself to death for that fellow and his magazine."
"I'm not. He'll let me off any day. He said he'd rather his magazine smashed than I did."
"And you believed him?"
"I believed him."
"Then," said Tanqueray, "it's more serious than I thought."