"What were you going to ask me, Captain Selwyn?"
"Did he row—your brother Gerald?"
"No," she said. She did not add that he had broken training; that was her own sorrow, to be concealed even from Gerald. "No; he played polo sometimes. He rides beautifully, Captain Selwyn, and he is so clever when he cares to be—at the traps, for example—and—oh—anything. He once swam—oh, dear, I forget; was it five or fifteen or fifty miles? Is that too far? Do people swim those distances?"
"Some of those distances," replied Selwyn.
"Well, then, Gerald swam some of those distances—and everybody was amazed. . . . I do wish you knew him well."
"I mean to," he said. "I must look him up at his rooms or his club or—perhaps—at Neergard & Co."
"Will you do this?" she asked, so earnestly that he glanced up surprised.
"Yes," he said; and after a moment: "I'll do it to-day, I think; this afternoon."
"Have you time? You mustn't let me—"
"Time?" he repeated; "I have nothing else, except a watch to help me get rid of it."