She allowed me to retain her hand just long enough to show that she was not mortally offended, after which she gently disengaged herself. To cover the constraint that both of us felt I went on to wonder if our shot had taken effect. A young man who had gone to find out came back with the news that the lookout, having spied the pin furrow of the periscope, the shot had been fired at a venture. As far as could be observed it had done nothing but send up a waterspout.
On receiving this information I went on with our interrupted personalities.
“Ever since Sunday I’ve wondered what had become of you; but then I’ve been looking for the uniform.”
“I always intended taking that off when I got on board. You see, I never was a nurse in any but an amateur sense, and so—”
It was my opportunity to spring the surprise I had been holding in reserve ever since my talk with the Consolatrice in the dock at Liverpool.
“When did you last see Mabel?”
She spoke with a sharp, sudden mezzo cry that might have been caused by pain.
“Who told you that?”
“Who told me what?”
Bang!