"She always does. What do I do to him?"
"You excite him."
"Do I, Gertrude?"
Gertrude's face seemed to be imploring Brodrick to be pitiful, and not to rub it in.
"Do I?"
"The child," said Gertrude evasively, "is very sensitive."
"And you create," Brodrick said, "an atmosphere——"
"A what?"
"An atmosphere of perpetual agitation—of emotion——"
"You mean my child is fond of me."