BOOK SECOND: LITTLE AGGIE
"Oh!" Brookenliam observed.
"There has always been some man—I've always known there has. And now it's Petherton," said his companion.
"But where's the attraction?"
"In him? Why, lots of women could tell you. Petherton has had a career."
"But I mean in old Jane."
- 'Well, I dare say lots of men could tell you. She's no older than any one else. She has also such great elements."
"Oh, I dare say she's all right," Brookenham returned as if his interest in the case had dropped. You might have felt you got a little nearer to him on guessing that, in so peopled a circle, satiety was never far from him.
"I mean for instance she has such a grand idea of duty. She thinks we're nowhere?"
"Nowhere?"
"With our children—with our home life. She's awfully down on Tishy."
"Tishy?"—Brookenham appeared for a moment at a loss.
"Tishy Grendon—and her craze for Nanda."
"Has she a craze for Nanda?"
"Surely I told you Nanda's to be with her for Easter."
"I believe you did," Brookenham bethought himself, "but you didn't say anything about a craze. And where's Harold?" he went on.
"He's at Brander. That is he will be by dinner. He has just gone."
"And how does he get there?"
"Why, by the Southwestern. They'll send to meet him."
Brookenham appeared to view this statement, for a moment, in the dry light of experience. "They'll only send if there are others too."
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