THE WINGS OF THE DOVE
"Oh, you'll get away from me."
"Keep me, keep me," she simply continued with her gentle eyes on him.
She had given him her hand for good-bye, and he thus for a moment did keep her. Something then, while he seemed to think if there were anything more, came back to him; though something of which there was not too much to be made. "Of course if there's anything I can do for your friend: I mean the gentleman you speak of———" He gave out in short that he was ready.
"Oh, Mr. Densher?" It was as if she had forgotten.
"Mr. Densher—is that his name?"
"Yes—but his case isn't so dreadful." She had within a minute got away from that.
"No doubt—if you take an interest." She had got away, but it was as if he made out in her eyes—though they also had rather got away—a reason for calling her back. "Still, if there's anything one can do———?"
She looked at him while she thought, while she smiled. "I'm afraid there's really nothing one can do."
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