"You're sure there hasn't been"—he paused discreetly for his word—"some misunderstanding?"
"Quite sure. There isn't anything to misunderstand. I'm going because
I want to go. There are too many of us at home."
"Too many of you—in the state your sister's in?"
"That's exactly why I'm going. I'm trying to tell you. Ally'll go on being ill as long as there are three of us knocking about the house. You'll find she'll buck up like anything when I'm gone. There's nothing the matter with her, really."
"That may be your opinion. It isn't Rowcliffe's."
"I know it isn't. But it soon will be. It was your own idea a little while ago."
"Ye—es; before this last attack, perhaps. D'you know what Rowcliffe thinks of her?"
"Yes. But I know a lot more about Ally than he does. So do you."
"Well—"
They were sitting down to it now.