I saw that he'd seen. He knew! Yes! He'd tumbled to it that this Captain Markham who had lately come from Salonika was the man to whom I'd referred as "people" that had sailed for Salonika before I left London.
Why had I ever opened my mouth about that?
For now Dick Holiday, who was in love with Muriel, knew the whole of my silly, humiliating little tragedy.
I felt that it was written on my face anyhow.
I turned away, wishing that the tiled kitchen floor would swallow me up.
As I turned Elizabeth was at my elbow.
"Let's go home," she muttered forlornly.
We slipped out of the party without any leave-taking. Silently we made our way back to camp. And I am sure that to hear us laughing with Miss Easton and Vic, to see us fox-trotting together to the rowdiest record on the Camp gramophone, you would never have guessed that the Man-hater and I were about the most miserable pair of girls in the Land Army that night!