"Nothing, for you," he went on, "_is_ impossible. So go on." He
repeated it again--wanting her so to feel that to-day he saw it.
"You're all right."
"Well," she smiled--"keep me so."
"Oh you'll get away from me."
"Keep me, keep me," she simply continued with her gentle eyes on him.
She had given him her hand for good-bye, and he thus for a moment did
keep her. Something then, while he seemed to think if there were
anything more, came back to him; though something of which there wasn't
too much to be made. "Of course if there's anything I _can_ do for your
friend: I mean the gentleman you speak of--?" He gave out in short that
he was ready.
"Oh Mr. Densher?" It was as if she had forgotten.
"Mr. Densher--is that his name?"
"Yes--but his case isn't so dreadful." She had within a minute got away
from that.
"No doubt--if _you_ take an interest." She had got away, but it was as
if he made out in her eyes--though they also had rather got away--a
reason for calling her back. "Still, if there's anything one can do--?"
She looked at him while she thought, while she smiled. "I'm afraid
there's really nothing one can do."