"Do? Is there anything left for me to do?"
"Not much, that I can see."
"If I'd only spoken straight out in the beginning—"
"Do you mean to her?"
"To her." He whispered the pronoun so softly that it sounded like a sigh.
"Why didn't you?"
"Why didn't I? I can see it was the one honest thing to do. But I thought I'd no business to know about her father's affairs if she didn't; and certainly no business to talk about them."
"No. I don't see how you could have done it."
"All the same I'd made up my mind to do it that morning—when the telegram came. That stopped me."
"You were well out of it. You don't know what an awful thing it would have been to do. She worshipped her father. Is this what you've been making yourself ill about?"