It was only when Marie's coat slipped from her arm and they both stooped to recover it, that for an instant their eyes met, and she broke out, as if the words were formed without her will or knowledge, "It is nice to see you again, Mr. Dakers."
Poor Feathers! He flushed to the roots of his rough hair as he answered gruffly:
"You are very kind, Mrs. Lawless," and then, with a desperate attempt to change the subject, "Chris looks well, doesn't he?"
"Yes." She looked at him resentfully, but something in his face soothed the soreness of her heart, for there was a hard unhappiness in his eyes, and a bitter fold to his lips.
192 "He is not happy, any more than I am," she thought, and wondered why. She sat next to him at lunch, and Mrs. Heriot and her sister took the whole of the conversation between them. They talked of golf till Marie's head reeled, and Feathers interrupted at last.
"This is not very interesting to you, I am afraid, Mrs. Lawless."
Mrs. Heriot laughed.
"Mrs. Lawless ought to learn to play! Why don't you teach her, Mr. Dakers? She really ought to play."
"I'm afraid I should never be any good at it," Marie answered. "I never could walk far, and it seems to me that you spend all the time walking round and round."
Mrs. Heriot looked at Chris.