* * * * * *
“And—you—mean—to—say that it is absolutely Platonic on both sides?”
“Absolutely, or I should never have taken it up.”
“And his last promotion was due to you?”
Mrs. Mallowe nodded.
“And you warned him against the Topsham girl?”
Another nod.
“And told him of Sir Dugald Delane's private memo about him?”
A third nod.
“Why?”
“What a question to ask a woman! Because it amused me at first. I am proud of my property now. If I live he shall continue to be successful. Yes, I will put him upon the straight road to Knighthood, and everything else that a man values. The rest depends upon himself.”
“Polly, you are a most extraordinary woman.”
“Not in the least. I'm concentrated, that's all. You diffuse yourself, dear; and though all Simla knows your skill in managing a team”—
“Can't you choose a prettier word?”
“Team, of half a dozen, from The Mussuck to the Hawley Boy, you gain nothing by it. Not even amusement.”
“And you?”
“Try my recipe. Take a man, not a boy, mind, but an almost mature, unattached man, and be this guide, philosopher, and friend. You'll find it the most interesting occupation that you ever embarked on. It can be done—you needn't look like that—because I've done it.”
“There's an element of risk about it that makes the notion attractive. I'll get such a man and say to him, 'Now, understand that there must be no flirtation. Do exactly what I tell you, profit by my instruction and counsels, and all will yet be well,' as Toole says. Is that the idea?”
“More or less,” said Mrs. Mallowe with an unfathomable smile. “But be sure he understands that there must be no flirtation.”