Walker got up.
'I'll be off,' he answered, with a slight smile.
He was glad to go, for it made him ashamed to watch the boy's humiliation. His own nature was so honest, his loyalty so unbending, that the sight of viciousness affected him with a physical repulsion, and he turned away from it as he would have done from the sight of some hideous ulcer. The doctor surmised that his presence too was undesired. Murmuring that he had no time to lose if he wanted to get his patients ready for a night march, he followed Walker out of the tent. George breathed more freely when he was alone with Alec.
'I'm sorry I did that silly thing just now,' he said. 'I'm glad I didn't hit you.'
'It doesn't matter at all,' smiled Alec. 'I'd forgotten all about it.'
'I lost my head. I didn't know what I was doing.'
'You need not trouble about that. In Africa even the strongest of us are apt to lose our balance.'
Alec filled his pipe again, and lighting it, blew heavy clouds of smoke into the damp air. His voice was softer when he spoke.
'Did you ever know that before we came away I asked Lucy to marry me?'
George did not answer. He stifled a sob, for the recollection of Lucy, the centre of his love and the mainspring of all that was decent in him, transfixed his heart with pain.