He gave a last half-smiling glance at me, and something that might have been a little gesture of taking leave.
Then he turned to say "Good-bye" to the forewoman.
A moment later I realized that he and Mr. Rhys had left the hut.
For immediately the normal noise of the place burst out afresh, like a stream released from the dam. Down, with a bang, went the iron on the stand. Away into corners flew the book, the blouse-mending, the crochet, the letter-writing pad. Chattering and laughing, the Land Girls rushed five deep to the window again.
"There they go!"
"Fancy a man about this place! First thing you could call a man that's been in here since we started!"
"What a shame," from the deep-voiced Welsh girl. "Why couldn't you call our nice little Mr. Rhys 'a man'?"
"Oh, him! He's in and out every day. Can't call that 'a man' about the place. More like a husband!" from another. "Miss Easton, whoever was the officer?"
"Couldn't tell you. You heard Mr. Rhys say he was Captain Holiday, and that's all I know."
"'Holiday.' Wonder if that's got anything to do with the farm?"