Tony thought a moment. "You mean because Jean and the Doctor———?"
"Have taken complete charge. She bows to that, but she sits there on a bench———"
"Weeping and wailing?" Tony asked. "Dear thing, I'll speak to her."
He was about to leave the room in the summary manner permitted by the long widow when Paul checked him with a quiet reminder. "Hadn't you better have your hat?"
Tony looked about him—he had not brought it in. "Why?—if it's a warm night?"
Paul approached him, laying on him as if to stay him a heavy but friendly hand. "You never go out without it—don't be too unusual."
"I see what you mean—I'll get it." And he made for the door to the hall.
But Paul had not done with him. "It's much better you should see her—it's unnatural you shouldn't. But do you mind my just thinking for you the least bit—asking you for instance what it's your idea to say to her?"
Tony had the air of accepting this solicitude; but he met the inquiry with characteristic candour.
