‘And, remember, you know your way to the hospital,’ he added quickly, as Dinah was about to speak. ‘I hope when I am gone you will pay Jack many a kind little visit, your hands as full of fruits and flowers as they were to-day.’
‘When you are gone!’ echoed Dinah, blankly. The fear smote her that with Geoffrey’s going, such slack hold as she still had upon Gaston must be loosened. ‘I hoped you would remain here ... as long, at least, as I must. Think of all the sick people who will miss you, Geff. Think of Miss Bartrand.’
‘I shall find sick people everywhere. In the matter of doctors, Guernsey is full of better men than I.’
‘And Marjorie Bartrand?’
‘Ah! that is a different side of the question. I am conceited enough to think Miss Bartrand’s mathemathics will suffer.’
‘And you don’t care—you are not one bit sorry at giving her up? Do you know, Geoffrey, I had begun to hope——’
‘Miss Bartrand will be a Girton girl before long,’ interrupted Geoffrey. ‘Happily,’—he paused—‘she is not without self-reliance, has more than a woman’s share, perhaps, of ambition. When we see each other next it will be as fellow-students in Cambridge.’
Dinah knew the tone of his voice. It was not a tone that invited discussion.
‘Your leaving is an ill stroke of luck for me, Geff. Day by day Gaston’s engagements seem to grow upon him. My time will be emptier than ever when you are gone.’