Canon Wilton also was struck by the change in Dion, and said something, but not just then all, of what he felt.
“You know the phrase, ‘I’m my own man again,’ Leith, don’t you?” he said, in his strong bass voice, looking steadily at Dion with his kindly stern eyes. (He always suggested to Dion a man who would be very stern with himself.)
“Yes,” said Dion. “Why?”
“I think South Africa’s made you your own man.”
Dion looked tremendously, but seriously, pleased.
“Do you? And what about the again?”
“Cut it out. I don’t think you’d ever been absolutely your own man before you went away.”
“I wonder if I am now,” Dion said, but without any weakness.
He had been through one war and had come out of it well; now he had come home to another. The one campaign had been but a stern preparation for the other perhaps. But Rosamund did not know that. Nevertheless, it seemed to him that already their relation to each other was slightly altered. He felt that she was more sensitive to him than formerly, more closely observant of what he was and what he did, more watchful of him with Robin, more anxious about his opinion on various matters.
For instance, there was the matter of Mr. Thrush.