“Why you should bother with me, I don’t understand,” he said.
“Neither do I,” she replied in her disconcerting way. “If you had died I shouldn’t have been sorry. For her sake. Now you’re not going to die, I’m glad. For yours.”
“Thank you,” said he with a note of irony. And then after a pause:
“How is your mistress?”
“She is quite well, sir.”
“And happy?”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Myra stiffly, “but I’ve not come here to be asked questions. I’ve no intention of your using me as a go-between.”
“It never entered my head,” he declared.
“It might,” said Myra. “So I give you warning. Whatever go-between-ing I do will be to keep you apart from Mrs. Triona.”
“Then why are you worrying about me?” he asked.