Ethne shrank from any perfunctory
expression of regret, knowing that there was no need for it, and
Durrance had no wish to hear it. For there were many things which these
two understood each other well enough to take as said. They did no more
than shake hands when they had spoken, and Ethne moved back into the
room.
"I will give you some tea," she said, "then we can talk."
"Yes, we must have a talk, mustn't we?" Durrance answered seriously. He
threw off his serious air, however, and chatted with good humour about
the details of his journey home. He even found a subject of amusement in
his sense of helplessness during the first days of his blindness; and
Ethne's apprehensions rapidly diminished. They had indeed almost
vanished from her mind when something in his attitude suddenly brought
them back.
"I wrote to you from Wadi Halfa," he said. "I don't know whether you
could read the letter."
"Quite well," said Ethne.
"I got a friend of mine to hold the paper and tell me when I was writing
on it or merely on the blotting-pad," he continued with a laugh.
"Calder--of the Sappers--but you don't know him."
He shot the name out rather quickly, and it came upon Ethne with a shock
that he had set a trap to catch her.
Pages:
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189