"Yes, yes," she said, as if now satisfied. "That's all I ask for—as strong as is humanly possible."
XXVIII
It was a bright May morning and the sunshine streamed into Mr. Prentice's room gaily and warmly, lighting up the old panelled walls, flickering on the bunch of keys that hung from the lock of the open safe, and making the tin boxes show queer reflections of the windows, the tops of houses on the other side of Hill Street, and even of the blue sky above the chimney-pots.
A large table had been brought in for the occasion; a clerk had furnished it with newly-filled ink-stands and nice clean blotting paper; another clerk was ready to receive the visitors as they came upstairs. Mr. Prentice moved his armchair to the head of the table. He would sit here, and preside over the meeting. He glanced at the clock.—A quarter to twelve!
At noon Mr. Archibald Bence or his representative was to complete the purchase of Marsden & Thompson's by handing over cash; and at the same time the domestic affairs of Mrs. Marsden were to be wound up forever.
Mrs. Marsden was the first of the interested parties to arrive on the scene. She looked careworn and nervous; and, as she shook hands, Mr. Prentice noticed that her fingers trembled.
"Now, my dear," he said kindly, "there's nothing to worry about. You sit by my side here, and take things quietly."
Mrs. Marsden, however, preferred to sit away from the table, on a chair between the windows, with her back to the light.