He smiled in reply, full of delight in her mere presence. They talked
the matter over, arriving at some sort of a compromise between their
sympathy for the dying woman and their feeling that a man like Murphy
should be dealt with by the law. They came for the moment to seem to be
on the old footing of simple friendliness, while she made the tea and
they discussed the situation.
"One lump or two?" Mrs. Fenton asked, pausing with tongs suspended over
the sugar.
"Two," answered he. "I am afraid I am self-indulgent in my tea, but
then I very seldom take it."
"So small an indulgence," she said, handing him his cup, "does not seem
to me to indicate any great moral laxity."
"It is the principle of the thing," Philip returned, smiling because
she smiled.
Mrs. Fenton shook her head.
"Come," she said, "this is a good time for me to say something that has
been in my mind for a long time. You may think that it isn't my affair,
but I can't help saying that it seems to me you have allowed yourself
to get into a frame of mind that is rather--well, that isn't entirely
healthy. I hope you don't think me too presuming.
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