“The police?” she said. “Why, Hi, they’re married men, with families, most of them. Do you think they’d risk their pensions by arresting a Red on a White warrant? They’re not philanthropists.”
“What are they, then?”
“Paid partisans.”
“Golly.”
“Well may you say golly. However, that is a little thing, compared with this marriage. I’m used to the police. I’m not used to the thought of that man with . . .”
She had paused at the little fountain, where she gazed down into the basin and let the fingers of one hand open and close in the water.
“But I’m not going to talk in this beastly way,” she said. “Forget what I said, will you?
“Of course, Hi, you’ll come here whenever you like. Mother told me to tell you that a place will be here for you at lunch on every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday; when you can come, we’ll be glad, and when you can’t you needn’t write or send word. You needn’t think it’s decent of us. We’re only too glad. You were all lovely to me at your home, and your father simply saved us from beggary. Besides, it will be a charity to two lorn females.”
“Thank you,” Hi said, “you’re a jolly good friend.”
“There’s my hand on that,” she said. “And when you’re settled out here, we can always put you up. Now would you care to swim? We have a bathing pond here. It was made in the days of our glory, but, being made, it is easy to keep up.”