"And here's your friend," said Phyllis.
"Hello, Pilot," said a voice from a dark corner of the car.
"What, Neil! Oh, you boy," he cried in an ecstasy, pushing both hands at
him. "You dear old boy. How is the arm, eh? all right?"
"Oh! doing awfully well," said Captain Neil. "And you?"
"Oh, never so well in all my life," cried Barry. "Yet, to think of it,
ten minutes ago, or when was it, I was in there a miserably homesick
creature, envious of all the happy people about me, and now--"
While he was speaking, his eyes were on Mrs. Vincent's face, but his
hand was holding fast to her daughter's arm. "Now it's a lovely old
town, and full of dear people."
"Where are you putting up?" asked Mrs. Vincent.
"The Cecil."
"Let us drive you there then," she said.
During the drive Barry sat silent for the most part, listening to
Phyllis talking excitedly and eagerly beside him, answering at random
the questions which came like rapid fire from them all, but planning
meanwhile how he should prolong these moments of bliss.
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