"Is Saulsby shut up?" he asked.
"Altogether, and so is the house in Portman Square. There never was
anything more sad or desolate. You would find him altered, Mr. Finn.
He is quite an old man now. He was here in the spring, for a week or
two;--in England, that is; but he stayed at an hotel in London. He
and Laura live at Dresden now, and a very sad time they must have."
"Does she write?"
"Yes; and keeps up all her interest about politics. I have already
told her that you are to stand for Tankerville. No one,--no other
human being in the world will be so interested for you as she is.
If any friend ever felt an interest almost selfish for a friend's
welfare, she will feel such an interest for you. If you were to
succeed it would give her a hope in life." Phineas sat silent,
drinking in the words that were said to him. Though they were true,
or at least meant to be true, they were full of flattery. Why should
this woman of whom they were speaking love him so dearly? She was
nothing to him. She was highly born, greatly gifted, wealthy, and a
married woman, whose character, as he well knew, was beyond the taint
of suspicion, though she had been driven by the hard sullenness of
her husband to refuse to live under his roof.
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