“The place where we were both going to war. Do you realize what a meeting ground that is?”
She nodded. “It is—quite a meeting ground. It seems to——” she hesitated. He repeated the words with the rising inflection. She shook her head.
“I can finish it for you,” he said. “It seems to—set us apart, just a little—from the rest. At least—till they say they are going, too. Some of them will say that very soon. Till they do—do you mind being—in a little clear space—just with me—and with this big thing ahead to talk about together?”
It was a minute before Jane answered. When she did, it was in the frankest, sweet way that she said straightforwardly, “No, I don’t mind, Mr. Black. I think I—rather like it. You see, you’re not—poor company!”
Though they went on from there on that note of frank friendliness, finished the walk, came finally to the hotel, parted with the simplest sort of comradely good-night, there could be no question that the bond between them, till now established wholly on the basis of Black’s friendship for Cary, had become something which was from Cary quite apart. Whatever it was, it took Robert Black a good three miles of walking alone in a rain which had all at once become a downpour to think it out, and wonder, with a quickening of the pulses, where it led.
CHAPTER XI
A LONG APRIL NIGHT
“LET a fellow in? Oh—sorry! Did I wake you up?” Black looked up, dazedly. It struck him that Red didn’t appear particularly sorry, in spite of his brusque apology. The red-headed doctor stood just within the minister’s study door, bearing all the appearance of one who comes on the wings of some consuming enthusiasm.
Black pushed a number of sheets of closely written paper under a convenient magazine. He ran his hand across his forehead, thrusting back dark locks more or less in disarray. His eyes were undeniably heavy.
“Come in—do! Have a seat. Let me take your coat.”
“Thanks. You look in the dumps. Somebody been flaying you alive?”