'I didn't expect you to get up at five, which you would have had to
do. I was here soon after six.'

Mrs. Fargus asked her if she had had a good passage, if she felt
fatigued, and what she thought of Paris. And then the conversation
dropped.

'She's a good little soul,' thought Mildred, 'even though she does
dress shabbily. It is pure kindness of her to have me here; she
doesn't want the three pounds a week I pay her. But I had to pay
something. I couldn't sponge on her hospitality for six months... I
wonder she doesn't say something. I suppose I must.'

'You know it is very kind of you to have me here. I don't know how to
thank you.'

Mrs. Fargus' thoughts seemed on their way back from a thousand miles.
'From the depths of Comte,' thought Mildred.

'My dear, you wanted to study.'

'Yes, but if it hadn't been for you I should never have got the
chance. As it was Harold did his best to keep me. He said he'd have to
get a housekeeper, and it would put him to a great deal of
inconvenience: men are so selfish. He'd like me to keep house for him
always.'

'We're all selfish, Mildred. Men aren't worse than women, only it
takes another form. We only recognise selfishness when it takes a form
different from our practice.'