On these lines they talked about Egypt.
Then they talked about Rome again.
Then they went back to Egypt.
Quentillian looked at the rebellious profile beneath Val’s shady hat, and came to the conclusion that, whether she fully realized it or not, she was as profoundly bored as himself.
It was Captain Cuscaden who released them from the strain, by rising to take his leave.
“I’m sorry you have not seen Adrian. He will be disappointed to have missed you,” Canon Morchard said courteously. “Another day, when Adrian is at home, you must come over again. He is spending the afternoon with friends at a distance, and will hardly be home before dinner-time. You must come over again.”
“Thank you, sir. I should like to very much.”
Something in the Captain’s prompt reply convinced Quentillian that his acceptance was not merely a conventional one.
“Your motor-bicycle is round by the hall door,” said Valeria, and she and Captain Cuscaden left the garden together.
“And now, dear lad, you and I must have some talk together.”