“You are rigid with me, and I deserve it. I am as worthless a dog as you will find, except that I am not false⁠—not false. But you surprised and started me from my subject, which was your brother. I have an interest in him.”

“Have you an interest in anything, Mr. Harthouse?” she asked, half incredulously and half gratefully.

“If you had asked me when I first came here, I should have said no. I must say now⁠—even at the hazard of appearing to make a pretence, and of justly awakening your incredulity⁠—yes.”

She made a slight movement, as if she were trying to speak, but could not find voice; at length she said, “ Mr. Harthouse, I give you credit for being interested in my brother.”