Bream Mortimer looked as though he would rather have hopped on to a perch, but he sat down. He glanced about the room with gleaming, excited eyes.
“Mrs. Hignett, I must have a word with you alone!”
“You are having a word with me alone.”
“I hardly know how to begin.”
“Then let me help you. It is quite impossible. I will never consent.”
Bream Mortimer started.
“Then you have heard about it?”
“I have heard about nothing else since I met Mr. Bennett in London. Mr. Bennett talked about nothing else. Your father talked about nothing else. And now,” cried Mrs. Hignett, fiercely, “you come and try to re-open the subject. Once and for all, nothing will alter my decision. No money will induce me to let my house.”
“But I didn’t come about that!”
“You did not come about Windles?”