“It might make you feel less bitter regret.”
Canterton sat back in his chair, spreading his shoulders and drawing in a deep breath.
“Have you wired to your relatives?”
“They don’t exist. Father was an only son, and mother had only one brother. He is a doctor in a colliery town, and one of the unlucky mortals. It would puzzle him to find the train fare. He married when he was fifty, and has about seven children.”
“Very well, you will let me do everything.”
He did not speak as a petitioner, but as a man who was calmly claiming a most natural right.
She glanced at him, and his eyes dominated hers.
“But—I can’t bother you——”
“I can arrange everything. If you will tell me what you wish—what your mother would have wished.”
“It will have to be very quiet. You see, we——”