her companion the handsome face she had composed to hear everything. Strangely enough it was just this fine vessel of her attention that made the girl most nervous about what she must drop in. "Quite a 'demand,' dear, is it?" asked Mrs. Gereth, drawing in her cloak.
"Oh, that's what I should call it!"—Fleda laughed, to her own surprise.
"I mean with the threat of enforcement and that sort of thing."
"Distinctly with the threat of enforcement—what would be called, I suppose, coercion."
"What sort of coercion?" said Mrs. Gereth.
"Why, legal, don't you know?—what he calls setting the lawyers at you."
"Is that what he calls it?" She seemed to speak with disinterested curiosity.
"That's what he calls it," said Fleda.
Mrs. Gereth considered an instant. "Oh, the lawyers!" she exclaimed lightly. Seated there almost cosily in the reddening winter sunset, only with her shoulders raised a little and her mantle tightened as if from a slight chill, she had never yet looked to Fleda so much in possession nor so far from meeting unsuspectedness half-way. "Is he going to send them down here?"
"I dare say he thinks it may come to that."
"The lawyers can scarcely do the packing," Mrs. Gereth playfully remarked.
"I suppose he means them—in the first place at least—to try to talk you over."
