The Nun obeyed, and Sally came. As she passed Harry, she smiled in her queer derisive fashion, but her voice was kind as she took hold of Isobel's arm and raised her, saying, "Come, you're upset to-night. It won't look half so bad in the morning."
Harry met Isobel and clasped her hands. Then she and Sally Dutton went out together.
Harry sat down heavily in a chair by the table and poured out a glass of wine.
"Do you two men want to be alone together?" the Nun asked.
Harry shook his head. "I'm just off home."
"It's all arranged," said Andy. "Harry goes to London by the early train to-morrow. I shall get her things from Nutley directly after breakfast and bring them here. You and Sally will look after her till twelve o'clock. Then I'll take her to the station. Harry will meet her at the other end, and—well, they've made their plans."
Harry lit a cigarette and smoked it very quickly, between gulps of wine. Andy had begun to smoke too. His air was calm, though grave; he seemed to have taken charge of the whole affair.
"Are you going to marry her?" the Nun suddenly inquired, with her usual directness.
"You might have gathered that much from what Andy said," Harry grumbled in an injured tone.
"Does Vivien know yet?"