She drew in her lip and was silent. If he could speak now. In this mood, he might believe her—might even forgive her....
But it was she who spoke.
"What about—the Kashmir plan?"
"God knows. It's all in abeyance. The Colonel's wedding too."
"Will you be allowed—I wonder—to pay me a little visit first?" Her smile and the manner of her request were irresistible.
"It's just possible!" he returned, in the same vein. "I fancy Lance would understand."
"Oh—he would. And to-morrow—the night train? Can you be there?"
He looked doubtful. "It depends—how things go. And—I rather bar station partings."
"So do I. But still ... Mother's been clamouring for you to come up with us and guard the hairs of our heads! But I deftly squashed the idea."
"Bless you, darling!" He drew her close, and she leaned her cheek against him with a sigh, in which present content and prospective sadness were strangely mingled. It was in these gentle, pensive moods that Roy came near to loving her as he had dreamed of loving the girl he would make his wife.