"A packet leaves Ostend on Monday," said the Colonel. "You may easily settle your affairs here tomorrow, and be off to Ghent on Sunday. That will enable you to reach Ostend in good time on Monday."
Peregrine looked at him. "You mean that I'm not to go to Stuart's tomorrow?"
"Yes, I do."
"I ought at least to take my leave of Lady Barbara."
"I will convey your apologies to her."
Another silence fell. Peregrine got up. "Very well. You are right, of course. I have been a fool. Only - you must know - how it is when she smiles at one. It - never - oh, well!"
The Colonel walked over to the table, and picked up his hat and gloves. "Yes, I know. But don't begin to think yourself in love with her, Perry. You're not."
"No. Of course not," said Peregrine, trying to speak cheerfully.
The Colonel held out his hand. "I daresay I sharnt see you tomorrow, so I'll say goodbye now."
Peregrine gripped his hand. "Goodbye. You're damned good fellow, Charles, and I'm devilish sorry! i - I wish you very happy. She never thought of me, you know."