“You,” she whispered, “the first sportsman of England—a—a coward.”
He gave a short mirthless laugh.
“Queer, isn’t it, the way a chap feels about such things? I always hated the idea of being mangled. Awf’ly unpleasant idea that—’specially in the tummy. In India once I saw a chap——”
“You—a coward!” Doris repeated, wide-eyed. “I don’t believe you.”
He bent his head again.
“I—I’m afraid you’d better,” he said uncertainly.
She rose, still looking at him incredulously, another doubt, a more dreadful one, winging its flight to and fro across her inner vision.
“Come,” she said in a tone she hardly recognized as her own, “come let us join the others.”
He stood uncertainly and as she started to go,