They really do infect the cottagers.

You know how discontent spreads.

And Tryst--they're egging him on, too." Malloring very thoughtfully filled a pipe.

He was not an alarmist; if anything, he erred on the side of not being alarmed until it was all over and there was no longer anything to be alarmed at! His imagination would then sometimes take fire, and he would say that such and such, or so and so, was dangerous.
"I'd rather go and have a talk with Freeland," he said.

"He's queer, but he's not at all a bad chap." Lady Malloring rose, and took one of his real-leather buttons in her hand.
"My dear Gerald, Mr.Freeland doesn't exist." "Don't know about that; a man can always come to life, if he likes, in his own family." Lady Malloring was silent.