She shook her head. "No. You will be coming back, and then my occupation would be gone." She hesitated. "But if I come—what of Hilda?"
"She may decide to go over, too, as a nurse. We work well together."
She was silent, searching for the words which she felt that she ought to say. So that was it? They would go together, and the tongues of the world would wag. And Hilda would know that they were wagging, and would not care. But he, with his mind on bigger things, would never know, and would blunder unseeing into the net which was set for him. She felt that she ought to warn him, that the good friendship which existed between them demanded it. Yet it was a hard thing to say, and she hated it. So the moment passed.
It was he who spoke first—of Jean and Derry. "What do you think of it, Emily?"
"He is very much in love with her."
"And Jean?"
"Oh, I think you know. You saw her tonight."
He felt a sudden sense of age and loneliness. "She won't miss me, then?"
"Do you think that anyone could make up to your little Jean for the loss of her father?"
He covered his face with his hand. "You are feeling it like that?" she asked, gently.