"What a coarse and unfeeling way of putting it, Mr. Pellew!"
"Well—I saw it was, the moment I came into the room. So did you, Miss Dickenson! Don't deny it."
"I certainly had an impression they had been precipitate."
"Exactly. Cut along!"
"And then, you know, he was to have gone home next day, and didn't. He was really here four days after that; and, of course, all that time it got worse."
"They got worse?"
"I was referring to their infatuation. It comes to the same thing. Anyhow, there was plenty of time for it, or for them—which ever one calls it—to get up to fever-heat. Four days is plenty, at their time of life. But the question is, will it last?"
"I should say no!... Well, no—I should say yes!"
"Which?"
"H'm—well, perhaps no! Yes—no! At the same time, the parties are peculiar. He'll last—there's no doubt of that!... And I don't see any changed conditions ahead.... Unless...."