littry idees and all that.
It's no good."

The phrase "littry idees" held Lady Harman's attention for a moment. But
she could not follow it up to its implications, because she wanted to
get on with the issue she had in hand.

"I want to be consulted about these expulsions. Girl after girl has been
sent away----"

Sir Isaac's silhouette was obstinate.

"She knows her business," he said.

He seemed to feel the need of a justification. "They shouldn't make
trouble."

On that they rested for a little while in silence. She began to realize
with a gathering emotion that this matter was far more crucial than she
had supposed. She had been thinking only of the reinstatement of Alice
Burnet, she hadn't yet estimated just what that overriding of Mrs.
Pembrose might involve.

"I don't want to have any girl go until I have looked into her case.
It's----It's vital."

"She says she can't run the show unless she has some power."

Neither spoke for some seconds. She had the feeling of hopeless vexation
that might come to a child that has wandered into a trap. "I thought,"
she began. "These hostels----"

She stopped short.

Sir Isaac's hand tightened on the arm of his chair. "I started 'em to
please you," he said. "I didn't start 'em to please your friends."

She turned her eyes quickly to his grey up-looking face.

"I didn't start them for you and that chap Brumley to play about with,"
he amplified. "And now you know about it, Elly."

The thing had found her unprepared. "As if----" she said at last.

"As if!" he mocked.

She stood quite still staring blankly at this unmanageable situation. He
was the first to break silence. He lifted one hand and dropped it again
with a dead impact on the arm of his chair. "I got the things," he said,
"and there they are. Anyhow,--they got to be run in a proper way."

She made no immediate answer. She was seeking desperately for phrases
that escaped her. "Do you think," she began at last. "Do you really
think----?"

He stared out of the window. He answered in tones of excessive
reasonableness: "I didn't start these hostels to be run by you and
your--friend." He gave the sentence the quality of an ultimatum, an
irreducible minimum.

"He's my friend," she explained, "only--because he does work--for the
hostels."

Sir Isaac seemed for a moment to attempt to consider that. Then he
relapsed upon his predetermined attitude. "God!" he exclaimed, "but I
have been a fool!"

She dec