"Nine and a half hours. My Flibbertigibbet is too much for me at times, and I had to walk off my temper."
She cast her eyes on him, thinking of the pleasure of dealing with a temper honestly coltish, and manfully open to a specific.
"All those hours were required?"
"Not quite so long."
"You are training for your Alpine tour."
"It's doubtful whether I shall get to the Alps this year. I leave the
Hall, and shall probably be in London with a pen to sell."
"Willoughby knows that you leave him?"
"As much as Mont Blanc knows that he is going to be climbed by a party below. He sees a speck or two in the valley."
"He has not spoken of it."
"He would attribute it to changes . . ."