VIII
With his letter in his hand Dennis Vidal stood and smiled at her. "What in the world has your dear Tony 'got,' and what is he to say?"
"To say? Something to his wife, who appears to have lashed herself into an extraordinary state."
The young man's face fell. "What sort of a state?"
"A strange discouragement about herself. She's depressed and frightened—she thinks she's sinking."
Dennis looked grave. "Poor little lady—what a bore for us! I remember her perfectly."
"She of course remembers you," Rose said. "She takes the friendliest interest in your being here."
"That's most kind of her in her condition."
"Oh, her condition," Rose returned, "isn't quite so bad as she thinks."
"I see." Dennis hesitated. "And that's what Mr. Bream's to tell her."
