"What was it?" he demanded briefly.
"He—well, he didn't put it quite definitely, but he hinted that you were not the sort of man to make a friend of; that you were leaving the hospital on account of some dreadful scandal about one of the nurses."
For a second Colin stared at her in blank amazement. Then he suddenly broke into a peal of laughter.
"Good heavens, Nancy!" he exclaimed. "If you'd only seen 'em!"
"I didn't believe it, of course," she went on hurriedly. "I was certain he must be making some stupid mistake."
Colin's lips tightened. "I object to people making mistakes of that sort about me," he observed rather grimly.
Before Nancy could reply the waiter arrived with the soup, followed a moment later by another, who proceeded to uncork and pour out the wine.
"You mustn't take it too seriously," she continued, as soon as they were alone again. "It was a detestable thing of Major Fenton to say, but I don't think he meant any real harm by it. He explained that he'd heard the story from somebody at his club, and that he'd only repeated it to me because he felt that it was his duty. As I told you before, just because he once knew my father, he seems to have some ridiculous notion that he ought to look after me."
Colin, who had been sprinkling a little pepper into his soup, looked up with a smile.
"Well, don't let's waste our time discussing it any more," he said cheerfully. "It's just a silly lie, and, anyway, there are lots of much pleasanter things to talk about." He raised his glass. "I'm going to propose the health of our old pal 'Ginger Dick.' He may have his faults, but, after all, if it wasn't for him we shouldn't be sitting here now."