It seemed to comfort her to hold his hand. The sobs ceased, and presently she looked up and said, with a smile:
"I always used to cry at going back to school."
"Going back to work," said Philip, "is one of the few things in the world really worth crying about."
"Yes, isn't it?" she said, unblushingly availing herself of the shelter of his affected cynicism. She was afraid he might go on talking about crows, a topic which had been all very well, and even a little comforting, when she was hidden among the cushions, but would not do now.
"And London is so horrid in winter," she continued. "Are you going back soon?"
"Oh, I shall wait a little and look after Dale."
"Dale never tells one what is happening."
"I'll keep you posted, in case there's a revolution in Denborough, or anything of that sort."
A step was heard outside. With a sudden bound Nellie reached the piano, sat down, and began to play a lively air. Dale came in, looking suspiciously at the pair.
"I thought you'd gone to bed, Nellie."