“So you went up to his room?”
“Yes.”
“And you saw the spices?”
“Yes—I was just saying, wasn’t I? that it was funny you should choose that bit to read aloud.”
“I expect he showed them to you—he’s always talking about them to me—did he?”
“One or two—yes, he did show me. But I couldn’t stop. I had my work waiting.” She regretted ardently that she had introduced the subject; she not only feared and mistrusted Silas’s inquisition, but she also shrank, as with physical pain, at his handling of it. He was rough and defamatory.
His tone changed, and unexpectedly he continued in a gentle, interested, and sympathetic voice.
“I’m glad to think you make friends with Linnet. I often think it’s hard for you, living between me and Gregory; you’re a young thing, so’s Linnet; it’s natural you should be drawn together. He’s got a brain, too; none of your young fools! I’ve a grand opinion of him. I thought when he first came to the house that you and he would get laughing together. Tell me what he looks like?”
“What he looks like, Silas?”
“Yes, describe him to me.”