"And she—my dear man, she's got everything on her mind."
"I know. I—I want to see her on business."
Miss Palliser's lithe figure grew rigid. She turned on him a look of indignation and contempt. "Everybody wants to see her on business. But some of them have had the grace to wait."
He smiled in the faint tolerant manner of a man so steeped in the bitterness of the situation that no comment on it can add a further sting.
"I can't wait. My business hasn't much to do with me; but it has a great deal to do with Miss Harden."
She looked at him as he spoke. Something in his face and in his voice too made her feel that her judgement of him had been unspeakably, unpardonably coarse.
"I beg your pardon," she said gently.
"Oh don't. I'm not surprised that you thought that of me."
"I didn't think it. I don't quite know what I'm saying. I've spent the last two days trying to keep fools from worrying her. I hate the people who want to go to her; I hate the people who keep away; I hate them all. But I'm sorry I spoke like that to you. You look horribly ill."
"I'm not ill. But I'm nearly out of my mind about this business."