“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. I don’t care. He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover. He knew.
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