“We might not even be back for tea,” said the Governor.
“And when is——” I paused and turned my eyes towards the house, “going?”
“Six o’clock train back to town this evening,” said the Governor, looking steadily at me.
A “Thank goodness!” remained unuttered on the tip of my tongue, as I felt obliged to say, “I hope he didn’t think it odd of me not to want to see”—I brought it out with a jerk—“that house.”
“Oh, no! He seemed rather bucked, really, to hear that—well, that we were so far on in our plans. Anglesey, you know, and so on,” said the Governor, in an expressionless voice as I turned quickly away.
For I’d caught the heralding whiff of a cigar round the corner! Also, I wanted to be safely in my own room, getting ready for church, just at the time that those two men would be setting out for the links.
My employer took one step after me.
“This evening, then?—I mean, for what I was going to say to you.”
Ah. That interrupted apology weighed on his mind.