'That is important,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'She hasn't told you lately anything about your friend Rollo?'
'No, sir. Have you given up your share in his friendship?' inquired Miss Hazel.
Mr. Falkirk made no answer to this query, and seemed to have forgotten it presently in his musings. Hazel glanced at him furtively, choosing her form of attack; for Mr. Falkirk's manner seemed to say that he had heard.
'You always played into each other's hands so delightfully, sir,' she began, with a very dégagé air,—'it is of course natural that he should keep you posted as to his own important proceedings. And a little ungrateful in you, Mr. Falkirk, I must say, to fling him off in this fashion.'
'I've nothing on my conscience respecting him,' said Mr. Falkirk, eating his toast with a contented air. 'I'm not his guardian, nor ever was.'
'What a pity!' said Wych Hazel. 'Both of us together might have made your life more lively than my unassisted efforts could do.'
Mr. Falkirk grunted, and went on with his tea; and sent his cup to be refilled.
Hazel pondered.
'You seem depressed, Mr. Falkirk,' she said. 'Shall I give you an additional lump of sugar?'
Now Mr. Falkirk in truth seemed anything but depressed; and he raised his head to look at his questioner.