"Dare say. Doesn't interest me in the least. I am sorry for Mrs. Carson, and I think she has been disgracefully treated; but I should like, if possible, to see her husband return to her. However, as you are going over to fetch him, I have no doubt that will arrange itself."
"Didn't intend to fetch him!" grumbled Semberry, "but will now, just to shut up Mrs. Purcell. Can't afford to play the doose with m' reputation when I'm in the Service. Carson's box is here, if Mrs. Purcell would like to see it."
Now, a sight of this precious box and its contents would, Mallow felt, be very acceptable. But he could not say so without rousing Semberry's suspicions. In such a position many a man would have jumped at the Major's offer, and have brought Mrs. Purcell to Marquis Street; but Mallow knew better. Of all things, caution was most essential. He merely laughed.
"Oh, I'll tell Mrs. Purcell, if you like," said he affably. "I don't think it's the box she wants to see so much as the man. Why not call on her before you leave?"
"What's the use? She would not believe me. I'll bring back Carson, I tell you, and he can shut her up himself. I ain't going to argue with Mrs. Purcell."
"Well, perhaps she is rather a difficult subject, Major. When do you go?"
"To-morrow, night train."
"Ah, well, pleasant journey. By the way, who was that fair chap you were talking to yesterday--the man I saw you with in Poplar Street? Excuse my asking, but I can't help thinking I know him."
The Major started, and looked searchingly at Mallow, who remained unmoved.
"Oh, a friend of mine; I.C.S. man," he answered carelessly. "Why?"