Roy unwillingly obeyed. He would have liked to refuse, but he looked upon Ivor as in some sort his commanding officer, so of course he had no choice.
"They're making no end of a row out there," he remarked in a tone of profound indifference, as he lounged nearer. "Can't think what it's all for. Just listen."
"Yes; I wish they would stop."
"Don't know what's it's all about. Something or other—going on. I shouldn't wonder—if they're quarrelling."
That odd little catch again.
"Feel very bad this evening, Roy?"
The question took Roy by surprise, and a lump in his throat prevented an immediate reply.
Denham understood.
"Never mind," he said. "It's the same with all of us, you know. And there's one comfort for you—that Molly wants you at least as much as you want her. Some people would give a good deal for that certainty."
Roy tried to explain matters away.