She had not been very well, and her face looked thinner than usual, her eyes more intense and burning. She was dressed in white.
As Claude came in she laid down her book and turned to him. He thought she looked very sad.
"Charmian still out, Madre?" he asked.
"Yes. Dressmakers hold hands with eternity, I think."
"Tailors don't, thank Heaven!"
He sat down on the other side of the fire, and they were both silent for a moment.
"You're coming to see us in spring?" Claude said, lifting his head.
Sadness seemed to flow from Mrs. Mansfield to him, to be enveloping him. He disliked, almost feared, silence just then.
"If you want me."
"If!"