“And when do you go out?”
“In three days’ time. I’m on leave till then.”
“Three days?” She looked at him aghast. “And then you go away indefinitely?”
She paused, drew a long breath or two, and sank limply into a chair. He looked at her rather wonderingly.
“What about me, Godfrey?”
In the gratification of his wildest boyish ambitions he had forgotten her woman’s point of view. He had expected her to share his elation. Remorseful, he bent quickly over her, reddening and stammering. He was a selfish brute. Did he really matter so much to her? If she would but say the word, he would go straight back and refuse the appointment.
“Don’t talk like a child,” she said. “If you did such a thing, we should despise each other for the rest of our lives. But three days—only three days! And I’m at my wits’ end with unhappiness.”
He sank lover-like by her side and took her hand. What was wrong?
“Have you seen The Morning Gazette?”
He laughed. “Oh yes! There’s a hell of a hullabaloo! But the beauty of it is, that the whole thing went fut three or four days ago. I can’t tell you why. We’re working out quite a different plan. All the same, there’s loud cursing in the camp.” He looked at her with one of his swift man’s glances. “Of course, dearest—I’m bound to ask—you never breathed a word to anybody of what I told you?”