She laid her hand on his as she spoke, and held it there; not in a touch, but a clasp.
'And--and forget--whatever else there may be--always,' he asked steadily; 'forget for you both?'
'Please,' she replied quietly; 'for her and for me--always!'
For an instant--one short instant--the man's instinctive recognition of woman's goodness and kindness--and of something else, perhaps, which had lain behind the appeal--made Jack Raymond feel as if he must kiss the hand that lay on his; then he laid his other one on it, returning the clasp.
'But how on earth is it to be done?' he said, frowning as they stood thus, like children playing a game; 'the office won't take it without authority--some one's name--'
'Couldn't you sent it from here--I can signal. I've learned--oh! such a lot of things that have never been of any real use, and--No! they keep the instrument locked, I know--that won't do! I'll forge the name--I could--and I don't mind.'
He smiled. 'Nor I--they can't stop my promotion now. But the telegraph-office will be closed. I might get hold of some one, perhaps, by saying--No! for why shouldn't it have been sent from here! That question would stump us. We might try the railway station. Yes! of course! The wire to Fareedabad is only a railway one. Even the regular office could only pass it on. By Jove! that's lucky all round.'
She caught at the idea. 'Write it out quick--there are forms in Captain Lloyd's room over there! My bicycle's ready, I'll take it. How much time have I?'
'Plenty still.' He glanced round the room they had just entered and saw another bicycle. 'I'll take that, and save you lending yours.'
'But I'm coming too,' she put in swiftly. 'I must! I'm only going, while you write, to tell the bearer to look after Jerry--he's in bed already--while I'm away. It won't take long.'