“What do you mean,” said Eleanor “ ‘—if it isn’t that’?”
Crispin started. Then he rose to his feet and began to pace the room nervously.
Eleanor Cloke watched him with smouldering eyes.
After two or three turns he stopped in front of her chair.
“I said your note was a godsend. Well, so in a way it is. Nell, if you value your happiness, you’d better give David up.”
The girl stared.
“Thanks very much—why? Are you afraid my waddle will get on his nerves?”
“I’m afraid,” said Crispin, “it has.” Eleanor smothered an exclamation. “At least, if it hasn’t,” he added, “then something else has. Nell, I’m grieved to tell you, but he’s looking elsewhere.”
“Who to?”
Crispin shook his head.