"Then Chris should have taken you away from the sea long ago," Feathers said decidedly.
"He doesn't know . . ."
"Not know!" Feathers echoed blankly.
"No . . ." she rushed on, painfully conscious of what he was thinking. "But we're going on Friday, and then I hope I shall forget all about it; I think I am sure to, when we are back in London."
"Where are you going to stay?"
"With my aunt; you know her, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, very well."
But his voice sounded absent, as if his thoughts were far away.
"You will come and see us, won't you?" Marie asked anxiously. "You will come and stay with us when you are back in town, won't you?"
He looked up with a faint smile.