“And the picture of health,” cried Peggy.
“For anyone who has a sound constitution,” answered Doggie, “it is quite a healthy life.”
“Now that you’ve got into the way, I’m sure you must really love it,” said Peggy with an encouraging smile.
“It isn’t so bad,” he replied.
“What none of us can quite understand, my dear fellow,” said the Dean, “is your shying at Durdlebury. As we have written you, everybody’s singing your praises. Not a soul but would have given you a hearty welcome.”
“Besides,” Peggy chimed in, “you needn’t have made an exhibition of yourself in the town if you didn’t want to. The poor Peddles are woefully disappointed.”
“There’s a war going on. They must bear up—like lots of other people,” replied Doggie.
“He’s becoming quite cynical,” Peggy laughed. “But, apart from the Peddles, there’s your own beautiful house waiting for you. It seems so funny not to go to it, instead of moping in these fusty lodgings.”
“Perhaps,” said Doggie quietly, “if I went there I should never want to come back.”
“There’s something to be said from that point of view,” the Dean admitted. “A solution of continuity is never quite without its dangers. Even Oliver confessed as much.”