Sybil stared
at him for a moment. Then, as once before, his rude address set her
sense of humour a-quivering. Depressed, miserable though she was, she
began to laugh.
He turned, and looked at her sideways.
"No doubt I am very funny," he observed dryly.
She checked herself with an effort.
"Oh, I know I'm horrid to laugh. But it's not that I am ungrateful.
There is nothing really the matter. I--I'm feeling rather like a stray
cat this morning, that's all."
The smile still lingered about her lips as she said it. Somehow, telling
this taciturn individual of her trouble deprived it of much of its
bitterness.
Mercer displayed no sympathy. He did not even continue to look at her.
But she did not feel that his impassivity arose from lack of interest.
Suddenly:
"Is it true that you are going to be married as soon as you land?" he
asked.
Sybil was sitting forward with her chin in her hands.
"Quite true," she said; adding, half to herself, "so far as I know."
"What do you mean by that?" He turned squarely and looked down at her.
She hesitated a little, but eventually she told him.
"I thought there would have been a letter for me from Robin at Aden, but
there wasn't.
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