'The train was abominably late. Travelling is becoming a perfect nuisance! I gave the station-master a piece of my mind,' said the Squire angrily.
'And I expect he said that you civilians jolly well have to wait for the munition trains!'
'He muttered some nonsense of that sort. I didn't listen to him.' The Squire threw himself down in an arm-chair. Desmond perched on the corner of a table near. Elizabeth discreetly took up her work and disappeared.
'How much time have you got?' asked the Squire abruptly.
'Oh, a few minutes. Aubrey and I are to have some supper before I go. But Forest'll come and tell me.'
'Everything ready? Got money enough?'
'Rather! I shan't want anything for an age. Why, I shall be buying war-loan out of my pay!'
He laughed happily. Then his face grew suddenly serious.
'Look here, father—I want awfully to say something. Do you mind?'
'If you want to say it, I suppose you will say it.'