“Good-bye,” he said again.
The door closed.
Up in the nursery Bill crooned to himself as he played on the floor. Mamie sat in a chair, sewing. The opening of the door caused them to look up simultaneously.
“Hello,” said Bill.
His voice was cordial without being enthusiastic. He was glad to see Kirk, but tin soldiers were tin soldiers and demanded concentrated attention. When you are in the middle of intricate manoeuvres you cannot allow yourself to be more than momentarily distracted by anything.
“Mamie,” said Kirk hoarsely, “go out for a minute, will you? I shan’t be long.”
Mamie obediently departed. Later, when Keggs was spreading the news of Kirk’s departure in the servants’ hall, she remembered that his manner had struck her as strange.
Kirk sat down in the chair she had left and looked at Bill. He felt choked. There was a mist before his eyes.
“Bill.”
The child, absorbed in his game, did not look up.