He gave Jean's hand the grasp of a friend, but his eyes looked on her with a more than friendly light in them. When he spoke, his voice was as pleasant as his smile, and his accents were those of that portion of Britain not yet entirely occupied by the victors of Bannockburn.
"It's very good of you to stay in," he said.
"Oh, I wasn't going out in any case," said Jean demurely.
She seated herself in one corner of the sofa, and the young man, after hesitating for an instant between a seat by her side and a chair close by, and failing to catch her eye to guide him, chose the chair, and for the moment looked unhappy.
"I've come to say good-by," he began.
She looked up quickly.
"Are you going away?"
He nodded his brown mop.
"Yes, I'm off to London again."
"For good?"