“Do you suspect anything?”
“Suspect?”
He turned sharply, and she could see the nervous twitching of his brows.
“Anything serious? Oh—James, don’t keep me in ignorance.”
She slipped from her chair, and sat down beside him on the hearth-rug, leaning against his knees.
“The child is out of health, dear. It may mean anything or nothing. I am wondering”—and he stopped with a tired sigh—“whether we can give her a change of air.”
“Dear, why not?”
She met his eyes, and colored.
“That is—”
“If we can find the money.”