"I suppose not," she answered.
"If you leave the matter with us, we will not oppose," he observed.
"That will be a great relief to my husband," she said. "He did not think any one else would."
"Well, well, we shall not, I am sure," was the unlooked-for reply. "You shall hear from me to-morrow."
"Thank you," was Dolly's humble answer.
"Good day. I hope we shall all have better times hereafter," and he held out his hand.
"Good day, madame," added Kleinwort, dropping a little behind. "Your dear husband must make health, and, you madame, I shall trust ere long time, to see red and not white. You must not mind Forde," he said, almost in a whisper. "He is rough, he is, that is why I comed; but good—so good when you get under his crust."
Mrs. Mortomley put her cold hand in Kleinwort's as she had put it into that of Forde, and said good-bye to the one man as she had said it to the other, with a wintry smile.
So they parted. Never—for ever did she see either of the two again.