“I couldn’t go to your people,” said Estelle, stiffly. “They have never been nice to me; besides, they would be sure to teach baby how to swear.” Then she added, “I suppose this puts an end to your going to India.”
Winn dropped his eyes.
“Yes,” he said, “this puts an end to my going back to India for the present. I’ve been up before the board; they’re quite agreeable. In fact, they’ve been rather decent to me.”
Estelle gave a long sigh of relief and gratitude. It was really extraordinary how she had been helped to avoid India. She couldn’t think what made Winn go on sitting there, just playing with the paper-knife.
He sat there for a long time, but he didn’t say any more. At last he got up and went to the door.
“Well,” he said, “I think I’ll just run up and have a look at the kid.”
“Poor dear,” said Estelle, “I’m frightfully sorry for you, of course, though I don’t believe it’s at all painful — and by the way, Winn, don’t forget that consumption is infectious.”
He stopped short as if someone had struck him. After all, he didn’t go to the nursery; she heard him go down the passage to the smoking-room instead.
CHAPTER VIII
Sir Peter was having his annual attack of gout. Staines Court appeared at these times like a ship battened down and running before a storm.