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"I defy you," he exclaimed, "to say!" "Well, you don't defy ME!" Mr. Cashmore cried as Mrs. Brook failed to take up the challenge. "If you know Mitchy," he went on to Mr. Longdon, "you must know Petherton." The elder man remained vague and not imperceptibly cold. "Petherton?" "My brother-in-law whom, God knows why, Mitchy runs." "Runs?" Mr. Longdon again echoed. Mrs.
"To say nothing of poor Cashmore," he pursued, "whom you take ALL, I believe, yourself?" "Will you leave it all to ME?" she once more repeated. This time he pulled up, suddenly and expressively wondering. "Are you going to do anything about it at present? I mean with our friend?" She appeared to have a scruple of saying, but at last she produced it. "Yes he doesn't mind now."
Vanderbank broke in. "Not in the least." He seemed to look for a way to express the distinction which suddenly occurred to him. "He wasn't in love with Mitchy's mother." "No" Nanda turned it over. "Mitchy's mother, it appears, was awful. Mr. Cashmore knew her." Vanderbank's smoke-puffs were profuse and his pauses frequent. "Awful to Mr. Cashmore? I'm glad to hear it he must have deserved it.
She wouldn't, in the case you conceive, recognise really the need of WHAT you conceive." Mr. Cashmore wondered it was almost mystic. "I don't understand you." Mrs. Brook, seeing it all from dim depths, tracked it further and further. "We've talked her over so!" Mr. Cashmore groaned as if too conscious of it. "Indeed we have!" "I mean WE" and it was wonderful how her accent discriminated.
But I should have no more feeling about her going to you and should expect her to have no more than about her taking a pound of tea, as she sometimes does, to her old nurse, or her going to read to the old women at the workhouse. May you never have less to brag of!" "I wish she'd bring ME a pound of tea!" Mr. Cashmore resumed.
What I meant to say just now is that I do perfectly see her taking what you call presents." "Well then," Mr. Cashmore enquired, "what do you want more?" Mrs. Brook hung fire an instant she seemed on the point of telling him. "I DON'T see her, as I said, recognising the obligation." "The obligation ?" "To give anything back. Anything at all." Mrs. Brook was positive.
Brook returned, "doesn't keep you au courant?" The Duchess blandly wondered. "I seem to remember he had positively said so. And that she had come back." "Because this looks so like a fresh start? No. WE know. You assume besides," Mrs. Brook asked, "that Mr. Cashmore would have received her again?" The Duchess fixed a little that gentleman and his actual companion. "What will you have?
Well then, I hope it will ease you off," he went on with spirit, "to know that I wholly LOATHE Mrs. Donner." Mrs. Brook, staring, met the announcement with an absolute change of colour. "And since when, pray?" It was as if a fabric had crumbled. "She was here but the other day, and as full of you, poor thing, as an egg of meat." Mr. Cashmore could only blush for her. "I don't say she wasn't.
Even without an inquest, he saw that the affair would be unthinkably distressing. He felt that it would kill him, and he put his hand to his face. "Where are Mr. Farll's relatives to be found?" the doctor asked. "Mr. Farll's relatives?" Priam Farll repeated without comprehending. Then he understood. Dr. Cashmore thought that Henry Leek's name was Farll!
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