"I'm sure I shan't mention it again," the girl broke in shortly.
"Perhaps since it means so little to you—your silence—perhaps you will do me that favor, Miss Gerson."
"Certainly." Woodhouse could see that anger still tinged her speech.
"May I go further—and ask you to—promise?" A shadow of annoyance creased her brow, but she nodded.
"That is very good of you," he thanked her. "Shall you be long on the Rock?"
"No longer than I have to. I'm sailing on the first boat for the States," she answered.
"Then I am in luck—to-night." Woodhouse tried to speak easily, though Jane Gerson's attitude was distant. "Meeting you again—that's luck."
"To judge by what you have just said it must be instead a great misfortune," she retorted, with a slow smile.
"That is not fair. You know what I mean. Don't imagine I've really forgotten our first meeting under happier conditions than these. I know I'm not clever—I can't make it sound as I would—but I've thought a great deal of you, Miss Gerson—wondering how you were making it in this great war. Perhaps——"
Almer returned at this juncture with the change, which he handed to Woodhouse. He was followed in by Lady Crandall, who assured Jane her hampers were securely strapped to the dog-cart. Jane attempted an introduction.