“Where did you learn all this?”
“Just now, on the Mall. Dr. Howlen told me. The Manager of the hotel is abusing the Bents, and the Bents are abusing the manager. They are a feckless couple.”
“Well. What's on your mind?”
“This; and I know it's a grave thing to ask. Would you seriously object to my bringing the child over here, with its mother?”
“On the most strict understanding that we see nothing of The Dancing Master.”
“He will be only too glad to stay away. Polly, you're an angel. The woman really is at her wits' end.”
“And you know nothing about her, careless, and would hold her up to public scorn if it gave you a minute's amusement. Therefore you risk your life for the sake of her brat. No, Loo, I'm not the angel. I shall keep to my rooms and avoid her. But do as you please—only tell me why you do it.”
Mrs. Hauksbee's eyes softened; she looked out of the window and back into Mrs. Mallowe's face.
“I don't know,” said Mrs. Hauksbee, simply.
“You dear!”