her dreadful obsession, to which poor Ramage has had to give way and which is the direct reason of her calling you."
Mrs. Beever's little eyes seemed to see more than he told her, to have indeed the vision of something formidable. "What dreadful obsession?"
"She'll tell you herself." He turned away to leave her to go, and she disappeared; but the next moment he heard her again on the threshold.
"Only a word to say that that child may turn up."
"What child?" He had already forgotten.
"Oh, if you don't remember———!" Mrs. Beever, with feminine inconsequence, almost took it ill.
Tony recovered the agreeable image. "Oh, your niece? Certainly—I remember her hair."
"She's not my niece, and her hair's hideous. But if she does come, send her straight home!"
"Very good," said Tony. This time his visitor vanished.
