"Only Nick left!" she repeated slowly. "Nick would stick at nothing,
Captain Grange."
"I honestly don't think he would," said Grange. "Still, you know, he's awfully plucky. He would have gone any length to save you first."
She drew back with a sudden shrinking of her whole body. "Oh, I know,
I know!" she said. "I sometimes think there is a devil in Nick."
She turned aside, bending once more over her father's things, putting them together with unsteady fingers. So this was the answer to the riddle—the secret of his choice for her! She understood it all now.
After a short pause, she spoke again more calmly. "Did Nick ever speak to you about me?"
"Never," said Grange.
"Then please, Captain Grange"—she stood up again and faced him—"never speak to me again about him. I—want to forget him."
Very young and slight she looked standing there, and again he felt his heart stir within him with an urgent pity. Vague rumours he had heard of those few weeks at Simla during which her name and Nick Ratcliffe's had been coupled together, but he had never definitely known what had taken place. Had Nick been good to her, he wondered for the first time? How was it that the bare mention of him was unendurable to her? What had he done that she should shudder with horror when she remembered him, and should seek thus with loathing to thrust him out of her life?
Involuntarily the man's hands clenched and his blood quickened. Had the General's trust been misplaced? Was Nick a blackguard?
Finding her eyes still upon him, he made her a slight bow that was wholly free from gallantry.