Claudia gave a great sigh of relief as they turned out of the gates of Wynnstay, and he looked at her with quick sympathy.
“It isn’t an exhilarating existence at Wynnstay, is it?” he said. “I know how you feel about it. But it won’t be for much longer, I gather?”
“No, thank goodness. It is rather dreadful. I either feel perfectly comatose or so irritably alive that I want to scream. Don’t let us talk about it. Let me tell you how glad I am at the success of your book. What a magnificent notice you had in the Times. Don’t you feel on top of yourself?”
“I won’t pretend that I’m not glad. But, honestly, it has been rather a surprise. I had a horrible feeling all the time I was writing it that it was vieux jeu, that it had all been said before. It is charming to find people so appreciative,” he concluded modestly.
“You’ve waited and done something worth doing,” said Claudia slowly. “That was prophesied of you long ago.”
“My waiting was pure laziness,” he said lightly. “The silent man is not always the wise one, though he does look unutterables.”
“Well, I’m glad, I’m very, very glad,” said his companion simply. “It gives me quite a thrill when I read the notices. Now tell me about Pat and her farm.”
Claudia found that he had gone into the whole matter very thoroughly, as he did everything he took up, and that Pat, through him, had made a very sound and promising bargain.
“And you approve of Pat going out there?” she said. “It sounds rather mad. Suppose I took a craze in my head to go out to Canada and farm, would you do all this for me and pack me off with your blessing?”
He laughed. “You and Pat are two very different propositions. Besides, you are not a bachelor like Pat.”