“Who is Ingram?” she asked.
She also affected calm superficiality. But she knew that something forbidden was coming.
“He is one of the other men with me down at Chatham—a subaltern—but a year older than I am.”
“And why did the church remind you of him?”
“Well, he had a girl in Rochester, and they always sat in a particular corner in the cathedral for their love-making.”
“How nice!” she cried, impulsively.
They misunderstood each other.
“It had its disadvantages though. The verger made a row about it.”
“What a shame! Why shouldn’t they sit in a cathedral?”
“I suppose they all think it a profanity—except you and Ingram and the girl.”