“Well,” he answered. “I find it the same in many ways.”
“You wouldn’t like to settle here again?”
“I don’t think I should. It feels a little cramped, you know, after a new country. But it has its attractions.” Here he smiled meaningful.
“Yes,” said Miss Pinnegar. “I suppose the old connections count for something.”
“They do. Oh decidedly they do. There’s no associations like the old ones.” He smiled flatly as he looked towards Alvina.
“You find it so, do you!” returned Miss Pinnegar. “You don’t find that the new connections make up for the old?”
“Not altogether, they don’t. There’s something missing—” Again he looked towards Alvina. But she did not answer his look.
“Well,” said Miss Pinnegar. “I’m glad we still count for something, in spite of the greater attractions. How long have you in England?”
“Another year. Just a year. This time next year I expect I shall be sailing back to the Cape.” He smiled as if in anticipation. Yet it was hard to believe that it mattered to him—or that anything mattered.
“And is Oxford agreeable to you?” she asked.