“I have taken a house at Shelton, and as Miss Cooper is so wretched I intend to take her there.”
“She is related to you?”
“No; I am sorry for her. She is my friend.”
“Ah, that is better. Will you not be sorry for me? I, too, am alone, and sometimes lonely.”
She had never associated any frivolity with the Member for Hackney. He was one of those mysterious men who assisted in the governing of the country, and as such beyond much emotion. She looked at him.
“Do you need my sorrow?”
“I want it.”
“We often want what we do not need. I want more tea, it is not good for me, I do not need it.”
“Can I do anything to help you?”
“If you would. I had forgotten Mrs. Cooper, her mother. You could interview her for me. She may hear Sylvia is ill. I do not want her to come to see her daughter. Mrs. Cooper would believe you. She is an old lady who believes in a man’s opinion.”