Mrs. Boynton looked after her.
Raymond sat limply in a chair, his eyes glazed with dull misery.
Nadine went upstairs and along the corridor. She entered the sitting room of their suite.
Lennox was sitting by the window.
There was a book in his hand, but he was not reading.
He roused himself as Nadine came in.
"Hullo, Nadine."
"I've come up for Mother's drops.
She forgot them."
She went on into Mrs. Boynton's bedroom. From a bottle on the washstand she carefully measured a dose into a small medicine glass, filling it up with water.
As she passed through the sitting room again she paused.
"Lennox."
It was a moment or two before he answered her.
It was as though the message had a long way to travel.
Then he said: "I beg your pardon.
What is it?"
Nadine Boynton set down the glass carefully on the table. Then she went over and stood beside him.
"Lennox, look at the sunshine out there, through the window.
Look at life. It's beautiful.
We might be out instead of being here looking through a window."
Again there was a pause.
Then he said: "I'm sorry. Do you want to go out?"
She answered him quickly: "Yes I want to go out - with you - out into the sun! Go out into life - and live - the two of us together."
He shrank back into his chair.
His eyes looked restless, hunted.
"Nadine, my dear, must we go into all this again - "
"Yes, we must.
Let us go away and lead our own life somewhere."
"How can we?
We've no money."
"We can earn money."
"How could we?
What could we do?
I'm untrained. Thousands of men - qualified men - trained men - are out of jobs as it is. We couldn't manage it."
"I would earn money for both of us."
"My dear child, you've never even completed your training.
It's hopeless - impossible."
"No; what is hopeless and impossible is our present life."
"You don't know what you are talking about.
Mother is very good to us.
She gives us every luxury."
"Except freedom.
Lennox, make an effort.
Come with me now, today - "
"Nadine, I think you're quite mad."
"No, I'm sane. Absolutely and completely sane.
I want a life of my own, with you, in the sunshine, not stifled in the shadow of an old woman who is a tyrant and who delights in making you unhappy."
"Mother may be rather an autocrat - "
"Your mother is mad! She's insane!"
He answered mildly: "That's not true.