"Fred Comfrey!" Norman frowned. "I shouldn't think you're likely to fall in love with him," he said.
"Oh, bother falling in love! I'm leaving that to you at present. But there aren't many people to play with about here just now. He makes another one. He's much improved."
"Oh, Pam, he's an awful creature. Surely, you're not going to have anything to do with him!"
"I used to hate him; but he's quite different now. I should never have known him. You know he went out to China, before you came to live here, and he never came home until he joined up for the war. He did very well in the war—got his Commission quite soon, and the Military Cross. He was badly wounded too, and isn't fit yet. I'm sorry for him; and really, Norman, he's quite nice. Anyhow, we couldn't not have him to play with us, because of Mr. and Mrs. Comfrey. I expect Auntie Eleanor will ask him here too. He only came yesterday."
"Well, I suppose you've got to give everybody his chance. He was an unmitigated beast as a boy, but perhaps he's improved. He couldn't very well have got any worse. Still, it does rather stick in my gizzard that he should be making friends with you, as I suppose he'll want to. I should be a bit cautious if I were you, Pam. After all, one does know something of what a man is, when one has known him as a boy. I should say that Mr. Fred Comfrey was a nasty specimen, even if he has succeeded in disguising it, as he used not to. How long is he staying here?"
"I think he may stay in England altogether. He has done very well in business in China, and thinks he may be able to carry on in London."
"I wish he'd stayed in China. But how long is he staying in Hayslope?"
"For some time, I think. He had to go back to China, directly he was demobbed, and hasn't had a holiday since the war. You ought to be nice to him, Norman. Poor Hugo liked him. He talked to me very nicely about Hugo this morning."
"When did you see him?"
"After church. Mother asked him to lunch, but he thought he'd better go home."