She nodded.
“Major Thomson arranged it for me, a few days ago. We may meet there at any time,” she added, smiling. “I am perfectly certain that the War Office will find you something abroad very soon.”
For a moment that queer look of boyish strength which had first attracted her, reasserted itself. His teeth came together.
“Yes,” he agreed, “there’s work for me somewhere. I’ll find it. Only—”
She checked him hurriedly.
“And I am quite sure,” she interrupted, “that when you are yourself again you will agree with me. These are not the times for us to have any selfish thoughts, are they?”
“Until a few weeks ago,” he told her, “I thought of nothing but the war and my work in it—until you came, that is.”
She held out her hands to check him. Her eyes were eloquent.
“Please remember,” she begged, “that it is too soon. I can’t bear to have you talk to me like that. Afterwards—”
“There will be no afterwards for me!” he exclaimed bitterly.