They have written to Geneva.' 'Then they think he's a prisoner ?' Bridget supposed so.
'At any rate they hope he is.

Well, I'm thankful there's no worse news.
Poor thing--poor little thing! Is she bearing up--eating ?--sleeping ?' He asked the questions peremptorily, yet with a real anxiety.

Bridget vaguely resented the peremptoriness, but she answered the questions.

It was very difficult to get Nelly to eat anything, and Bridget did not believe she slept much.
Farrell shook his head impatiently, with various protesting noises, while she spoke.

Then drawing up suddenly, with his hands in his pockets, he looked round the room in which they stood.
'But why are you staying here?
It's a dreadful hole! That porter gave me the creeps.