"Yes—Marjorie! Not once—nor twice—not accidentally—nor casually; but deliberately and continuously! Listen!" He was in the flood-tide of confession now, and I knew that in that mood he was not apt to be reticent.
"I made love to her at Craigfoot—in a 'you're-a-nice-little-girl' sort of way—while Roy was at Sandhurst. I made love to her in London, when I was on leave and he was in France—took her out to dinner and lunch, and so on—"
"Why not? It was up to her to refuse."
"She didn't refuse."
"In that case, she must have found your society agreeable."
"No, she didn't! I am pretty vain about myself, Alan; but I could see she didn't!"
"Then why did she accept your invitations?"
"I fancy it was because it gave her a chance to talk about the regiment—which meant Roy. Not that she ever mentioned him; but—I see it now! My God, what a cad I was! I let her sit there, while I crabbed him—talked patronisingly of him—belittled the good work he had always done for me and my battalion. Ugh!"
"Did you really care for her?"
"I was fascinated by her for the time. She is a glorious creature!"