For two minutes or more there was silence, a time of suspense. Then Miss Percival said, “I've had a telegram. Mr. Ingram is coming to-morrow.”
To this he said nothing. She went on.
“He is bringing people with him. Mrs. Benson was very funny about it. He is coming at seven with some people, and she would read it that he was coming with seven people. When I asked her, how could we meet him if he had not told us the time? she made a grievance of it, and said that was so like him. So it is, of course.”
Struan remained speechless, and had turned away his face. Miss Percival continued her reflections aloud.
“How long has he been away? More than a year. He wrote once from Singapore—then from Rawal-pindi—and that was all, until I got this telegram. He's very casual, I must say.” Here she paused.
Struan said suddenly, “Miss Percival, I'm going.”
She turned with interest, and asked, with not too much interest, “Oh! Why?”
He said, “You know why.”
She lowered her voice by a tone, but no more. “I hope you won't. It would be a pity. There's no real reason for it. I'll speak to Menzies to-morrow. He doesn't mean any harm to you. He's only old and grumpy.”
“He's a fool,” said Struan. “Certainly, he's a fool. But that's neither here nor there.”