Six hours later, at the end of the return journey, he inquired:
"Do you read your Voltaire at all? Probably not: I'll send you his 'Life.'"
The volume reached her next morning. Therein Marjorie discovered a marked passage, in which it was recorded that Voltaire found Habakkuk "capable de tout." Thereafter, Lord Eskerley habitually addressed her as Habakkuk.
III
Still, Marjorie was not entirely happy. As already stated, any form of outdoor occupation was, in her view, play; and the present was essentially a time for work. She belonged to that zealous breed which is never really contented unless it is uncomfortable—to whom congenial occupation is merely idleness under another name. She enjoyed her present employment so much that she felt ashamed: she felt that she was not pulling her weight in the war. Probably a short conversation with a sensible person would have cured her of these illusions; but Marjorie had no one with whom to converse. She might have confided in her employer; but she argued, with some reason, that he would merely make an apposite and caustic reference to the gentleman who is reputed to have painted himself black all over in order to play Othello. It did not occur to her to mention the matter to Roy in a letter. Roy, for the present, belonged to his country, and was not to be diverted from his duty by domestic or personal trifles. What Marjorie needed and longed for at this time was a confidant.
If we desire a thing urgently enough we usually get it. Sometimes we get more than we bargain for.
One day Lord Eskerley came down his front-door steps arm-in-arm with an officer in uniform. His lordship's chauffeuse, who prided herself upon her soldierly restraint, did not look round from her wheel as the pair entered the car, but she heard her employer say:
"You can drop me at the office, Eric, and the car will take you on to the club."
Eric Bethune's voice replied that this arrangement would suit its owner top-hole.
When Lord Eskerley alighted at Whitehall Gardens he turned and addressed Marjorie.