Nancy drew a deep breath. A wonderful smile sprang into her pretty eyes. It was a glad smile of thanks such as no words of hers could have expressed.
"Oh, thank you, Father—thank you."
Again came the man's restless movement at the word "Father." He abruptly leant forward and held his cup out for replenishment.
"May I?" he asked. Then his smile broke out again. "But tell me," he went on. "What have you done about the Skandinavia?"
"Nothing."
Nancy returned him his cup with an unsteady hand.
"Nothing? But you must communicate with them. You should write and tell them of your decision. You should tell them you don't intend to return to them."
Father Adam sipped his tea. He was watching intently but unobtrusively the transparent display of emotions which his words had conjured.
"I hadn't thought about it," Nancy said at last, not without some disappointment. "Do you really think I should write? But it will take so long to reach them. I can't wait for that. It—"
"Wire."