“It won’t,” said Henry cheerfully.
CHAPTER XIX
Henry found Anthony Luttrell sitting on the stone bench and so oblivious of his surroundings that it needed a hand on his shoulder to rouse him. Then he said vaguely:
“Oh, you’re back.”
“Rouse up a bit, Tony. It might have been Mr. Jeffrey Ember, you know. He was in the passages last night, and, for all I know, he may be there every night. I came back to say that I shan’t be down to-morrow. Make our appointment Sunday night instead.”
“I want to be out of this by then,” said Anthony. “I’ll go sick if there’s no other way. Stay here another forty-eight hours I cannot, and will not. I tell you I can’t answer for myself.”
Henry gave an inward groan. Jane had evidently been entirely right. They had not made it up.
“You’ve seen Raymond. I saw her pass.”
“I’ve seen ... Lady Heritage. Henry, will you tell me what the devil women are made of? She seemed to expect to take things up exactly as if the last seven years had never been at all, exactly as if there had been no breach, no war, no John Heritage, and no Jeffrey Ember. Oh, damn Jeffrey Ember!...”
“And I suppose you stood there and fired off sarcastic remarks at the poor girl, instead of thanking heaven for your luck. What’s the good of brooding over the past, Tony, and letting it spoil everything for you now? Raymond cares a heap more for you than you deserve, and if she’s got into a mess, it’s up to you to get her out of it. After all, you don’t want a scandal, do you?”