She
was able to tell herself thankfully that Nick was dropping away from
her into the past, and to hope with some conviction that the great
gulf that separated them would never be bridged.
Yet, notwithstanding this, she had a fugitive wish to know how her
late comrade in adversity was faring. Captain Grange's news regarding
him had aroused in her a vague uneasiness, which would not be quieted.
She wondered if by any means she could extract any information from
Olga, and this she presently essayed to do, when play was over for the
day and Olga had taken her upstairs to prepare for tea.
Olga was the easiest person in the world to deal with upon such a
subject. She expanded at the very mention of Nick's name.
"Oh, do you know him? Isn't he a darling? I have a photograph of him
somewhere. I must try and find it. He is in fancy dress and standing
on his head--such a beauty. Weren't you awfully fond of him? He has
been ill, you know. Dad was very waxy because he wouldn't come home.
He might have had sick leave, but he wouldn't take it. However, he may
have to come yet, Dad says, if something happens. He didn't say what.
It was something to do with his wound. Dad wants him to leave the Army
and settle down on his estate. He owns a big place about twelve miles
away that an old great-aunt of his left him.
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