"I say, what on earth am I kicking under here?" came from Ted suddenly. "Ugh, it feels like a corpulent corpse." He stooped to peer under the table. Molly cried out; he dropped the cloth and turned round.
"Did you hurt yourself?"
"I say, old man," Denis flung his arm round his shoulders and dragged him towards the door, "you might come up now and look at that book of Heller's I was telling you about. It's in my room."
"All right, but I've a conviction it's Herr Schmidt under that table!"
When they returned to the Stronghold all was light and innocent and calm. Denis made some excuse and went away.
Nell glanced several times at Ted. She guessed he had been doing too much; his face was pale and there were dark rings round his eyes. All the mother in her surged up; she smiled whimsically as she wondered if he would be astonished if she were to go and stroke his head, as she felt inclined to do. She went and sat on the rug by the fire and looked at him softly.
"Ted," she said, "I wish you were going to spend to-morrow with us."
"Do you really?" He looked tremendously pleased.
She nodded. "You'll spend New Year's day with us, won't you?"
"Rather. But the Governor and I always spend Christmas with my aunt. They have a large house party every year."